Open Wounds
by SpencerRemyLvr
Summary: Possible sequel #2 for "Meet The Team" - more notes and summary inside! Slash, folks, like I always do. Please read the notes at the start before reading the story!
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Open Wounds

**Author**: spencerremylvr (With some input and clips from cr8zymommy)

**Pairings**: Scott/Logan and eventual Spencer/Remy

**Crossover**: X-Men/Criminal Minds (like always!)

**Rating**: M

**Warnings**: Okay, gee, let's make this list. SLASH! Angst, hurt/comfort, violence, whump (I love good Reid whump!), rape, past child abuse/rape, just, well, let's just say this story has moments of badness and call it a fair warning.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Marvel, nor any of the X-Men. I do not own Criminal Minds, nor any of the characters. I'm not making any money off of this sweetness.

**Summary**: After being seriously injured by a group of mutant bashers, Spencer's brought back home with his brothers to recuperate. During his recuperation, he'll be forced to face things he never wanted to face, both past and present. But he'll also find something he never thought he could have.

**A/N**: So, as I've said before, when I wrote "Meet The Team", I wrote a couple possible sequels. One of those is "What Happens in Vegas". That was one possible sequel to MTT. But, there's also this one. It's another story that could be a sequel to MTT. BUT - this story and WHIV are not connected in ANY WAY. Make sense? Okay, I hope so.

This is my soap opera. I'm just going to be blunt on that. I wrote this story forever ago, directly after writing MTT, and it wasn't ever really intended to see the light of day. In here, I indulged my angst and whump side, and I let myself be as mean as I wanted. All those 'hurt Reid' moments, all the 'Evil William' and 'Asshole Christopher', even the usual 'bad Warren' and a Rogue that may seem bad but really, I think she'll end up being better than people think. Just, all the clichés that writers indulge in when they write about Spencer Reid, I let out in here. So yeah, there'll be some moments that may seem OOC, and this may be soap opera like, but it was a blast to write and a part of me really loves it. Cr8zymommy convinced me to share it with all of you and so here it is. I hope you get some enjoyment out of it. Just don't say I didn't warn you ;)

I'll be updating this about 1-2 times a week. I had 90 percent of the story already written and just sitting here, but I have to beta it and then finish it, so that's why you won't get the chapters all at once. That'll give me time to start writing more on it LOL.

* * *

It would have surprised many members of the mansion of they had known what two of their residents were doing this afternoon. If it had been given any thought, most would have assumed that Scott Summers was in his office, planning something or another, working in one of the half a million ways he constantly seemed to be doing. The assumption was that he ran, non-stop, like some little machine. He knew what people thought of him. He knew he was looked at as Xavier's golden child, the perfect little prodigal son. On a good day, it amused him. On a bad, it drove him to distraction. Today was definitely a bad day. To that end, he was in his office, but not working as others thought. Though he had been until about fifteen minutes ago. That had been when his current companion had come in, food tray in hand, and somehow, despite Scott's protests, he'd found himself sitting at his desk and sharing a lunch he hadn't thought he'd wanted with the last person anyone might have expected to see with him. Remy 'Gambit' LeBeau.

Most in the house that stopped to wonder where Remy was at mid-afternoon on a weekday would have assumed he'd either be in bed, sulking in a scheduled Danger Room session, or hiding out somewhere to avoid being pulled into chores. It was well known that Remy didn't become extremely social until afternoon started to edge toward evening. Not only was he a night owl by nature, but by necessity as well, his red-on-black eyes sensitive to the light of the day. With sunglasses, though, he was free to roam around in the sunshine with minimal discomfort. That discomfort was worth it to him when it came to helping a friend. And Scott Summers was definitely one of the few in the mansion that Remy could honestly claim was a true friend.

Since Antarctica, things had been different around the mansion. They were better now, yes. Relationships had been carefully mended over time. But they were still different. Tension was there between him and Rogue, right alongside the same love he'd always felt for her. They were back together yet again but Remy privately wondered if it was because he actually loved her, or if it was because he was so terrified of being alone. The others were on speaking terms with him—his relationships with everyone were about what they'd been before—except for Warren. _That_ relationship had only worsened, which was exactly what he expected and no more than he considered his due. But still, out of the whole mansion, he had become closest with Scott and Logan.

And it was because of that closeness that Remy had come bearing a tray of food to Scott's office. It would have surprised others to realize that, in Logan's absence—the man was currently out on a mission and probably wouldn't be back for another day or so—Remy had taken it upon himself to look after Scott. Not everyone realized that Scott was so driven and absorbed by his work that he had a tendency to forget the lesser things in life, such as sleeping and eating. But Remy knew. And he'd quietly promised Logan that he'd look out for his partner while the man was gone. To Remy, his word was gold. He wouldn't ever dream of breaking it.

At the moment, Remy was currently watching Scott as the older man slowly started to relax, some of the tension finally leaving his shoulders. The two were enjoying a nice lunch and a game of cards that Remy was currently winning. Scott picked up a fry and stuck it in his mouth, shaking his head at himself. "I don't know why I bother playing with you." He told Remy.

"Cause I'm de only one dat y' can't beat with y'r eyes closed, _mon ami_." A curl of the lip and a wink over his shades showed Remy's amusement.

Smiling, Scott shook his head again. "The others won't even play with me half the time anymore."

"How y' supposed to relax from de day when y'r leader's kicking y'r ass at poker?"

That had Scott grimacing. He really, really hated that. "I'm not just a leader. I'm a teammate, too. And a friend."

Remy looked up from his cards to give Scott one of his rare, honest smiles, with no cynicism or mockery attached to it. "_Oui_, y' are, Scotty. And a _bon ami_ y' are, too." He said sincerely. The mask that usually sat over Remy's face was gone for the moment. In private like this, he let those shields down a little, allowing himself to be simply Remy instead of playing up the Gambit persona. He didn't worry about impressing Scott or Logan, or hiding himself from them, or faking things. At least, not too much. The kid was still so internal with the really personal things, but Scott and Logan were slowly drawing the Cajun out. Though it was never voiced out loud, Scott knew that Logan looked at Remy the same way that he did; like a kid brother to look out for and protect.

The phone on the desk rang, startling the two of them. Without even thinking about it, Scott reached over and pressed the speaker button. "Scott Summers speaking."

Remy smothered a snicker at the professional sound to Scott's voice. Indulging himself, Scott stuck his tongue out. He laid his cards down, grinning at his friend. He knew there was no way that Remy had anything to beat his full house. His grin grew at Remy's scowl. Then, everything seemed to freeze, Scott's grin wiping away as the voice over the speakerphone said "Mr. Summers? My name is Kendra Blake and I'm with St. Joseph's hospital. I have you listed on our paperwork as the emergency contact."

The word hospital was always enough to chill his blood. Scott turned toward the phone, his voice much steadier than he felt inside. A little frisson of fear was coiling in his gut. "Who is it?" He asked calmly. "Who's hurt?"

"Early this morning, SSA Dr. Spencer Reid was brought to our ER. If you could come down, Sir, there is some paperwork to be signed and everything will be explained when you get here."

That frisson of fear exploded, almost consuming him. He didn't even realize that his hands were tightly gripping the arms of his chair. All he could focus on was the phone in front of him. "Is he alive?" he croaked out. That calmness was momentarily gone from his voice.

"Yes, Sir." The woman answered him quickly. That was enough to make his breathing ease, if only slightly. Then she told him "Please, Sir, if you could come down, everything will be explained when you arrive." Oh, God. It was never good if they didn't want to tell you over the phone. That meant it wasn't just a broken bone, or a simple gunshot. Not that gunshot's were simple, but in Spencer's line of work, it was something Scott almost expected. What the hell had happened to Spencer? What was going on? Somehow, he found his voice. "I'll be there shortly."

"Yes, Mr. Summers. I'll alert his team."

The line went dead. For just a beat, all Scott could do was stare. Spencer was in the hospital. Spencer was hurt.

Gentle hands closed over his, warm and real, pulling his attention away from the now silent phone and back to reality. He looked up to find that Remy had risen and was now squatting in front of his chair, holding his hands. "Come on, Scotty." The Cajun said in a soft voice. "Let's get y' to de hospital. I'll drive y' dere."

"I, I need to go." Scott said. "I need to go see Spencer."

"_Oui, mon ami_. Come on, now. Let Remy take care of y'. I'll get y' dere."

Scott let Remy draw him upright, pulling him from his chair and to his feet. Once he was standing, he knew he should be moving. He knew he should be racing to the car and speeding away to the hospital. But for one moment he stopped, gripping Remy's hands tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. _Please, let him be ok. Please, let him be okay._ He said the prayer over and over. After a few shuddering breaths, he opened his eyes once more, drawing on that control and levelheadedness that made him a leader. "You'll drive me?" He asked Remy. Right now, he didn't trust himself behind a wheel. Calm could only get him so far; he knew he couldn't be behind the wheel of a vehicle at the moment.

Sunglasses pushed up to the top of his head, Remy was watching his face. He nodded. "Told y', I'll drive y'."

Though he drew himself up and stiffened his spine, turning almost cold as he started to make his way out of the office, he indulged himself in one small comfort. One of his hands stayed locked in Remy's. Their fingers twined together and Remy gripped his hand just as tightly as Scott gripped his. It was a silent support, friend to friend. A reminder that he wasn't alone.

Surprisingly, the two encountered no one on their way to the garage. Once there, Remy wasted no time in getting Scott inside one of the cars. Which one, Scott wasn't paying attention to. He just sat inside and buckled himself while Remy went around to the driver's seat. In no time flat they were pulling out and heading down the road. Scott stared down at his lap. He should be doing something. Not just sitting here in the car, waiting to arrive. There should be something he should be doing. But the landscape flew by and he could think of nothing. Finally, after a long period of silence, something came to him. "I should call Alex." He said out loud.

"Got m' phone if y' need it, cher." Remy told him. He was easily navigating the roads at speeds that Scott didn't even care to think about. Anything, to get him there faster.

"No, no. I, I'll wait until I know something. Until I know what's going on."

After a moment of silence, Remy hesitantly asked "Dis Spencer…he's important to y'?"

That had Scott looking up. He realized that Remy hadn't been around in the early years when Spencer had used to visit and that, the few times Spencer had come and visit since Remy had joined them, the Cajun hadn't been around. But still, he couldn't believe no one had mentioned anything to Remy. Usually the man gathered information like it was air; vital to his survival. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Scott voiced those thoughts out loud. "I can't believe you've never been at the school when he's been there. Spencer, he's my youngest brother. He was adopted out when he was just a couple days old to Mom's cousins." Even after all these years, that still made his teeth clench.

True to form, Remy didn't probe at an obviously tender area. Instead, he picked something else entirely. "He's younger dan y' and Havok, but he's a supervisory special agent?"

That had that familiar sense of pride and exasperation rearing its head. "He's the youngest ever to be accepted into the Bureau. But it was what he wanted. He's a profiler in the behavioral analysis unit. They profile and catch serial killers. He's a genius, though he doesn't like the word. I mean, a real genius. He's got an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read twenty thousand words a minute. The little brat graduated high school when he was twelve."

"_Bon Dieu. _Twelve?"

"Yeah. He's got quite a few degrees under his belt, too. Hell, got the first degree at fourteen. He's got a doctorate in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering. He's also got B.A.'s in psychology and sociology and he just got one in philosophy." The pride was stronger now. "He's a hell of a kid."

"Y' make dem smart in y'r family." Remy teased him. "So, is he quiet like y' about his smarts, or he one of dem stuck up nerds dat looks down on de lesser folks of de world?"

Laughter actually bubbled up and spilled out at that question. Scott rested his head back against the seat and let it out. "Oh, God." He finally said. "The man's a nerd, I'll grant you that much. He can ramble about facts like there's no tomorrow, with you not even being able to understand three quarters of what he says. But I don't think there's a stuck up bone in his whole body. If anything, he's the opposite. He has this tendency to think the worst of himself and he can get painfully shy around people he doesn't know. It takes him a while to warm up to others. But since being in the Bureau, he's getting better. The people there help him."

"Bet y'all get into some interesting debates, yeah? De two of y' must lose people in y'r conversations sometimes."

"Occasionally." That had Scott smiling. He could recall quite a few conversations he'd gotten into with his little brother that had progressed to intellectual debates that had lost the people around them. At least, when it stayed a simple debate. "More often than not, we amuse people. Spence, he's shy around others, but he's not with us. We have a tendency to…argue, in our family." Scott flashed a sharp grin that made Remy chuckle. "We fight, really. He's always fought with Alex and I. Mostly Alex, though. It's our way of saying we love one another." He had to snicker at that. "It drives Logan crazy. He says he doesn't understand how we haven't killed each other yet. Or destroyed the planet."

"He gets along okay with Wolvie, den?"

"Oh yeah. Logan took right to him. Almost everyone does. There's something about Spencer that just, I don't know. You want to look out for him. Maybe it's because he looks so damn innocent, even though I know he's not. He had a rough life with his Mom. Hell, he had a rough life, period. But he still seems so innocent half the time that you just find yourself wanting to protect him. Even when he makes you want to wring his neck, you find yourself ready to kick the ass of anyone else who might try it. And if that brat isn't inspiring people to take care of him, he's bringing out the crazies. He can't just have one normal person in his life. He inspires one extreme or the other in people."

Laughing, Remy raced around a curve. "Y' do realize dat y' just admitted to not being normal dere, Scotty?"

"Could I ever really try to claim normalcy?" Scott fired back.

Remy laughed even more. "Aint dat de truth." He teased. Abruptly he drew Scott's attention to the road again when he said "Dere we are."

Scott stared as they pulled into the parking garage. That had to be the fastest he'd ever made it from the mansion. He started to unbuckle as Remy parked. He paused and watched Remy turn the car off. "Rems?" He said softly. His friend turned quickly to look at him. "_Oui_, Scotty?"

"Um, thanks. For distracting me and such." He knew that was what Remy had been doing by asking those questions. It hadn't been solely for curiosity, but to keep Scott talking and to distract him from thinking.

The Cajun flashed a bright grin "What're friends f', yeah?"

* * *

When they walked into the emergency room, Scott didn't bother with heading to the packed reception desk. He instantly spotted the group of FBI agents waiting over by the chairs and he knew that they'd be his best chance for information. His eyes scanned them, noticing one person missing. Emily wasn't there. Only vaguely did he wonder where she was. The rest of his attention was on moving toward them and finding out what had happened to Spencer. Remy walked silently beside him, not touching, but a steady presence to remind him that he wasn't alone.

Aaron was the first one to notice him. He murmured something to the others and everyone rose right as Scott reached them. "How is he?" Scott didn't waste any time. He stopped by them, looking from one face to the next and feeling his stomach clench. None of them were looking good.

"Why don't you sit down a minute, Scott?" Derek asked him in a gentle voice.

Scott shook his head. "Just tell me how he's doing, Morgan. Don't sugar coat it. How bad is it?" Please, God, let him be okay!

"It's bad." Derek swallowed down the lump in his throat. "Some mutant bashing guy kidnapped him last night from outside the coffee shop."

While Scott seethed and Remy cursed, Morgan waited. Finally it quieted down. Penelope's hand settled in the crook of Derek's arm and he gave her a grateful look before continuing. "He went on a coffee run last night and never came back. Garcia hacked security cameras outside the coffee shop and she got the video feed of him being taken by some big guy. The guy blitzed him, got him in the back of his head. It was enough to knock him out. He kept him mostly drugged, too."

Fear was a solid ball of steel in his stomach now. Jesus. It was bad. It was _really_ bad. "Fuck." Scott hissed under his breath. He looked up at Derek once more. "That's why he didn't use his powers to fight back."

Nodding, Derek made himself keep going. "That's what we figure. The uh, the Unsub, he...he handcuffed him. Reid shows marks on his wrists from the cuffs where they bruised and tore skin. He's got two bruised ribs and two cracked ones. His left shoulder was dislocated, but they got it back in, hopefully without any serious nerve damage. They don't know how long it was out of place. There's bruising around his throat in the shape of handprints." That made Derek pause. He had to clear his throat again to be able to keep going. Scott and Remy both stared in joined horror as Derek continued to list Spencer's injuries. "His appendix was damaged and they had to remove it before it fully ruptured. His right leg was cut on something, we're not sure what, but he has six stitches there. His right ankle was broken, as were both…both his hands."

Remy brought a hand up to rest over his stomach. "_Mon Dieu._"

"He's a mess of bruises from head to toe and some random cuts. The guy just used hands and feet to…to beat him with. No weapons. He broke Reid's nose, but that was set fine. It left some nasty bruising on his face. He's got a few stitches in his lip, too. There's bruising on one side of his head and they say he may have some, uh, some hearing loss in that ear. They're not sure. He…fuck, Scott, the guy got Reid's knee. The same one he was shot in."

That had color draining from Scott's face. "How bad?"

"Pretty bad." Once more Derek found himself running his hand over his face. It surprised him to see the small tremble in his hand. He brought it down and shoved it in his pocket to try and hide it. "The knee was fractured, but they say that'll heal well. What worries them was the muscle damage above his knee, in his thigh. Some of it was torn and it, it looks like his leg got knocked against something metal. It split the skin open and well, between that and the fracture there ended up with some muscle damage. They've fixed it, but…Scott, they say he probably won't walk right ever again. The doctor said there's no doubt that Spencer will need a cane, most likely for the rest of his life."

It was too much. Scott didn't know if he could take this anymore. He didn't know if he could handle hearing anything else. His eyes closed and he felt Remy's hand settle in the small of his back. For a few moments, all Scott could do was breathe and try to control himself. Try to stop himself from racing out of the hospital and hunting down the bastard that had hurt his baby brother. "Did you get the fucker?" he asked hoarsely.

"We got him." Aaron chimed in with that smooth, calm voice of his.

Good. Though a part of Scott wished they hadn't so that he had a reason to hunt the bastard down and kill him. Beside him, he heard Remy growl out "Jail's too good f' de _connard_." Then he dissolved into a long stream of French curses that Scott only recognized some of, but could appreciate the sentiment of what he did understand. Scott saw the confusion on the others as they looked at Remy. They'd never met the man before. Right in that moment, Scott didn't care. "Where's his room?"

The girl Scott figured had to be Ashley made a soft sound before saying "Why don't you take a seat and take a minute to calm down, Mr. Summers? You don't want to go in there angry."

"Why don't you shut up?" Scott snapped at her. His hands clenched a little more at his sides. "And don't try to tell me what I want to do. Now, I won't ask again. Where is my brother's room? I need to see him before I speak with the hospital staff about a transfer. I also need to make sure he hasn't managed to blow up the machines they've hooked him up to." The idea just occurred to him as it came out his mouth. He grimaced. "Damn. He hasn't fried anything yet, has he?"

"He just woke up about an hour ago. Prentiss is down with him right now." Derek said. His face looked so haggard; Scott knew he was Spencer's best friend, almost like another brother. This had to be hitting him hard. "So far, so good, it seems. No dead machines yet. Now, come on, I'll take you."

Remy rubbed at Scott's back, murmuring to him "Y' want Remy to stay out here, cher? Can call Logan f' y' if'n y' want."

"Come with me?" Right then, Scott didn't care how he sounded. He needed the support.

"_Bien sûr_."

Together, the trio set off down the hospital hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow, there was a much more popular response to this than I ever imagined there would be. I didn't think anyone would be that interested in a soap opera lol. But, due to how many of you actually fav and alerted this-and the reviews!-I'm going to go ahead and put the next chap up now. Keep on sending in the feedback, people! I love it. I love, love, LOVE it. Makes me all warm and giggly ;)

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The gentleness with which Scott opened the door was at total opposites with the panic that Remy could feel coming off of him. He tried to project as much of a sense of calm as he could, despite his own nerves at being in these kinds of surroundings. He absolutely _hated_ hospitals. They didn't hold a single positive memory for him. Habit had him ducking his head just a little and checking once more to make sure his sunglasses covered his eyes. All of that flew out of his head, though, when he and Scott went into the hospital room and Remy got his first look at the youngest Summers brother.

Holy shit. It was one thing to hear the list of injuries; it was another thing entirely to see them. You almost couldn't tell that there was an actual person underneath the bandages, tubes, scabs and bruises. The guy's face was a giant mess of bruising from the broken nose and other injuries. Even from the doorway, the bruising on his throat looked horrible and there were definite finger marks visible in them. The man wore the hospital gown and the blanket was up almost to his chest, so anything underneath wasn't visible, but they could see the lump of something that they both guessed was whatever cast or brace was on his leg. His arms were on top of the blankets and the white bandages around each wrist and over his fingers, as well as the splint over that, seemed to make the bruises on his arms stand out even more.

Scott looked at all of this in one fell swoop before looking at Spencer's face. He saw the young man focus on him before he turned his face away and closed his eyes. It didn't take being an empath to understand what his baby brother was feeling. Scott gathered his composure as best as he could and forced down his heartache. He reached out, dimming the lights in the room so that they'd be at a more manageable level for Spencer's eyes. Then he strode toward the bed. "You've had better looking days, Spence." He teased him lightly.

The woman beside the bed, a pretty black-haired girl with a sad smile, looked up at Scott, rising to her feet when he got close. "He hasn't spoken to anyone." Emily Prentiss told him sadly. "He just looks away and goes quiet."

"Well, he'll get over that." Scott said firmly. He reached out and adjusted the blankets over Spencer, hating the way Spencer just laid there as if nothing was happening. His eyes were still closed. As the door opened and the others made their way in, Scott snorted down at the man in the bed. "You think the silent treatment is going to send me running? You do realize who I am, right? Now, come on, open up those eyes for me."

Stubborn ass that he was, Spencer didn't move, his eyes resolutely staying shut. Okay, so talking calmly to him wasn't going to work. Scott took a deep breath and prepared to get through to his brother in another way. "Spencer Reid, I did not have Remy drive me here like a bat out of hell, breaking who knows how many laws, just to watch you sit and sulk like a two year old that was sent to their room. You just quit giving me this childish silent treatment and open your eyes. Now!"

He heard a few surprised sounds behind him and Garcia gasped out "Scott!" But none of that mattered. What mattered was that Spencer's eyes opened and he was turning enough to glare at Scott. "Go away." The two words were soft spoken and as rough as sandpaper.

"Not likely." Scott replied. He reached out to drop down the bar on the side of the bed. Then he gently sat, careful not to jostle him. Now that he had Spencer's attention, he let himself soften a little again. His hand came up, resting over Spencer's heart. From what he'd been told, it was one of the few places that wasn't really damaged. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Why?" Spencer rasped once more. The sound of his voice was almost painful. He took a shuddering breath and his eyes slid closed once more. "Weak." He breathed out.

"You are not weak, Spencer." Scott argued. Oh, how he hated seeing this. Hated how broken Spencer looked right then, and not just physically. It had been a long time since he'd seen Spencer knocked down this low. Hating it, he tried to reassure him. "How many times do I have to tell you? You are not weak. You're one of the strongest people I know. You're going to make it out of this just fine."

But Spencer gently shook his head. His mouth seemed to quiver before he firmed it back up. "Won't. My leg…crippled."

_Oh, Spencer._ "It doesn't matter. Having a bum leg isn't going to make you weak. And you don't know how bad it'll be. You won't know until you get done with physical therapy. For all you know, it could heal up better than the doctor predicts." Off to the side, Remy stepped up, a cup of ice chips and a spoon in his hand. Scott gave him a grateful look before taking them. He scooped up a spoonful and held it in front of Spencer's stitched lips. "Now be a good little boy and open up so I can feed you these yummy ice chips."

"Fu—" Spencer's words were cut off when Scott stuffed the spoon in. The older man grinned widely. Then he turned his hand, letting his fingers brushed gently over Spencer's cheek, and his voice went soft. "Things will work out. I'm going to take care of you, Sherlock. And you're going to be okay, you hear me? Things may not seem like it now, but they are going to work out."

In that moment, Spencer looked every inch his age; even younger. He locked his eyes on Scott and his mouth gave another little quiver. "You don't know that." He rasped.

Scott scooped up another spoonful of ice, feeding it to Spencer. "Have I ever lied to you before? About anything?" He asked him plainly.

"No." Spencer whispered. The word was a little less shaky than his previous ones.

Smiling, Scott nodded. "Then trust me now. Things _will_ be okay. Now, here's what we're going to do. You're going to sit here and let someone give you ice chips so your throat feels a little better. While you do that, I'm going to go meet with your doctor and find out how soon you can be moved. Then I'm going to call Hank and arrange everything and get it cleared for someone to take care of things while I'm here and I'll see if Jean can bring me a few things to tide us over until you're safe to be moved, okay?"

"You don't have to stay."

With a shake of his head, Scott rose from the bedside. "For a genius, you sure say stupid things sometimes."

Just as Scott started to turn to hand off the ice cup to someone else, he heard a voice echoing down the hallway. His eyebrows shot up before furrowing down. He knew that voice. Dammit! "Who called Alex?" he asked the other agents in the room. When none of them answered, Scott scowled. "Great. Just great." Tossing a look at Spencer, Scott thrust the ice cup at Remy, already moving toward the door. "I'll try to head him off, Spence, but…"

The door burst open then and Scott stopped in his tracks. Behind his glasses, he closed his eyes and prayed for patience. When he opened them again, Alex still stood there, glaring at the room. "What the hell is this?" Alex demanded loudly. Behind him was an entire crowd of orderlies that he paid absolutely no attention to. "The little shit gets himself in the hospital and you don't even bother calling and telling me?"

"I just got here a little bit ago, Alex." Scott said patiently and calmly. "I was on my way to speak with the doctor and give you a call just now."

Alex scoffed and made his way past the agents that backed toward the wall. The group knew what it could be like when these brothers got together. The way that Alex rolled his eyes as he started toward the bed had Scott wanting to smack him. Somehow he managed to restrain himself. At least, he did up until Alex reached the bed and reached out, smacking Spencer's bicep. "What the hell did you get yourself into now, you idiot? When're you gonna stop playing at being a Fed and settle down in a real life, huh?"

The flash of pain over Spencer's face and the way his body locked down tight had Scott darting forward and shoving Alex back, delivering a solid thump to the back of the head. "You ass!" he snapped at his brother. "He's hurt, you can't hit him!"

"They've got morphine here." Alex fired right back. "He should be so drugged he's seeing pink elephants!"

Scott let out an exasperated sound. "Did you forget he doesn't take narcotics?" Then he turned back to Spencer. He brought one hand up to stroke over Spencer's bangs, pushing them back from his forehead, smoothing back the lines of pain there. "Watch your breathing, honey. Slowly, carefully, like you're meditating. In slowly and out slowly. That's it. There you go, Sherlock. You got it." Slowly he coached Spencer through the pain until he watched his face smooth out. Then he gave him a smile. "There you go. Better now?"

He felt Alex step up and then lean around him to brush his hand gently over Spencer's arm. "Sorry about that, pidge."

"If I…wasn't so…tired…I'd hit…you." Spencer forced the words out his scratchy throat. And, indeed, his eyes were starting to drift shut.

Scott looked at Alex. "Stay with him. I've got to go talk to the doctor about getting him transferred to the house."

"Good." Alex said firmly. He hooked a chair with his foot and sat down right beside the bed, one hand still resting by Spencer's arm. "Last thing he needs is to be here. Though they seem to have choice nurses here, pidge. You check em out yet? Saw a few that look like they'd be just your type. The one guy out at the front desk seems like a possessive asshole, just the way you like them."

Spencer's eyes stayed closed, but he very clearly rasped out "I saw a….clingy woman…all breasts…no brain…just…_your_ type."

Smothering his laughter, Scott made his way into the hall. Once there he took just a minute to lean back and take a deep breath. He was okay. Spencer was okay. Battered, bruised, and in for one hell of a recovery; but he was okay. As his breath shuddered in and out of him, Scott knew that seeing the doctor would have to wait. There was one thing he had to do first. He pulled his ever present cell phone from his pocket and blindly pressed the button for the speed dial 1. In just a short time, the most beautiful voice came over the line. "_You got good timing, Scooter. I was just getting ready to call and tell you that I'm on my way home_."

Scott opened his mouth to say something, to try and make a comment about the mission or to ask about its success, but what came out was "Hurry home. Please."

"_What's wrong_?" Logan asked instantly.

"I…Spence is in the hospital here, Lo. Some mutant bashing asshole kidnapped him last night. Fuck." Scott ran one hand over his face and shuddered slightly. "He's gonna make it, he's talking as best he can with me, but it's bad, Lo. He…he's hurt pretty bad."

"_I'll be there in a few hours. Just hold on tight and I'll be there, darlin._"

Nothing else Logan could have said would have been more perfect than that. Scott clung to that lifeline and used it to strengthen himself. "I've got to talk to his doctor and find out when we can move him. Then I'm going to call Hank and see about getting things set up there for him. He'll have to stay in the Med Lab a while, but it's gotta be better than the hospital, right? Less stress for him."

"_Alex there yet_?"

"Yeah." That had Scott letting out a shaky laugh. "Yeah. He barged on in, furious I hadn't called him yet. I've got no idea how he knew. He's with Spence right now. Remy's here too; he drove me."

A growl of approval came over the line. "_Good. Gumbo'll take good care of ya till I get there. Surprised ya got him through the doors of a hospital, but he'll stick it out with ya_."

Indulging himself for a moment by closing his eyes, Scott sighed out some of his tension. "I love you, Logan."

"_I love ya too, Slim. Now you go take care of business and keep yer mind busy. I'll be there as quickly as I can_."

"No accidents."

"_No promises_."

When he hung up the phone, he was still smiling.

* * *

By the time Scott got off the phone with the mansion, he could feel a headache building behind his eyes. Damn. It had taken way too long to not only find the doctor, but get the man to hold still long enough to talk with him. Thirty seconds into the conversation and Scott had already decided that there was no way his brother was staying under this man's care. The doctor was a narcissistic asshole who had had the audacity to stand there and complain about the mutants that came through the ER. Scott wondered if the man would have had the balls to talk that way if Scott had been wearing his visor instead of his glasses. The glasses allowed him to pass as human; the visor would have given him away.

After finally extracting himself from the pompous _ass_, Scott had then gone to the waiting room to call the mansion. He'd spoken with Hank first, reciting Spencer's injuries for him and getting his medical opinion on moving him. Thankfully, Hank swore they'd be able to sedate him and move him before the evening was out. Then Scott had had spoken with the Professor, explaining the situation and essentially gaining his permission—not that it mattered to Scott; he would have had Spencer there anyways—for his brother to stay for a while and to have a room made up for Alex if he chose to stay. He also checked with Charles to make sure thing were running smoothly and that he wasn't going to be needed while he dealt with this here. He explained that Remy had driven him, so no one would wonder where the Cajun was. After that, Scott had called Logan back, letting him know they were transferring Spencer and to just head straight to the mansion.

Next he had the damn tedious paperwork necessary to deal not only with insurance, but to prematurely discharge Spencer from their care. That definitely didn't help his headache at all. He had to pop an Excedrin before finishing up the last page of information. As he stood and made his way to the desk to turn it in, he heard a voice shout out "Scott!" from the direction of the hallway. Reflexes honed by years of being a big brother to two troublemakers and even more years of actual battle and battle training, Scott didn't miss a beat, tossing the paperwork on the counter and turning and taking off down the hall to where Derek was sticking his head out of Spencer's room. There was a tone used to call his name that he'd learned meant trouble; that tone had been in Derek's voice.

What he found inside was complete chaos. Alex was face to face with the idiot doctor, Remy was alongside Spencer's bed obviously trying to calm the panicking young genius, and Derek was off on the other side of the bed with Ashley and Garcia, the three of them looking unsure of what to do yet they were still trying to help Remy calm Spencer. Alex and the doctor were in the middle of a shouting match that Scott couldn't quite understand, their voices overlapping so that it was hard to distinguish what was being said.

In his best leader voice, Scott snapped out "That is _enough_!"

The two shouters turned to gape at him while he strode into the room, letting the door slap shut behind him. "Alex, what the hell is going on here? The short version."

"This fucking idiot here tried to give Spence morphine and Spence flipped on him. The guy tried to give it to him anyways. I stopped him. Spence fried the vitals machine. Asshole went into mutant hating mode. Short enough, Slim?" The sarcastic tone washed over Scott without bothering him. No, it was the doctor that was bothering him. Scott swore he felt his own temper threatening to snap.

Bringing his fingers up, Scott rubbed at his temples. "I am going to end up with a migraine before the day is done. I just know it." He grumbled to himself. Then, with a sigh, he didn't even bother lifting his head before giving orders. "Alex, get over there and help Remy calm Spencer down before he hyperventilates or rips out stitches. Doctor Idiot," maybe that wasn't the calmest thing to do, but he didn't really care. "my brother does not take narcotics and you're not going to be giving him any. As for having a mutant in your hospital, that is one matter that is going to be rectified as soon as our doctor arrives to take him. I just finished the last of the paperwork to discharge Spencer and have him transferred. Dr. McCoy is on his way to come supervise said transfer. Not only are we better equipped to treat one with his special needs, but I wouldn't subject him to your treatment any longer than absolutely necessary. You're dismissed. We no longer need your assistance in here." Without another thought for the doctor, he turned and made his way to the bed, taking the side across from Alex and Remy that the profilers had just vacated. His heart clenched when he saw that Spencer had passed out. Whether from stress or pain or both, he wasn't quite sure. But his face was slack and his eyes were closed. Scott couldn't stop himself from reaching out and adjusting the blanket and then smoothing back Spencer's hair once more. "At least he's out." He said softly. "That'll make it easier till we can get him home."

"Did they catch the bastard that did this?" Alex's voice was hard and harsh.

"Yeah."

"Damn. That fucking sucks."

Scott understood the sentiment. Alex wasn't saying it because he didn't want the bastard who did this to suffer. He was saying it because he wanted to be the one to make the man suffer. Scott could only agree. He wished that he and Alex could have a bit of alone time with the son of a bitch to show him what happens when you mess with a Summers.

From the side of the room, Ashley looked startled by his words. "Excuse me?" she said.

Scott didn't even bother turning toward her. He just kept watching Spencer's face. But Alex looked up and over at her before looking back to Scott. "Isn't that the one bitch?" he asked conversationally.

Scott nodded. "Yep."

"And she's here _why_?"

"The hell if I know." He shrugged. Catching Remy's curious look, Scott tried to control his emotions a little better so they wouldn't bleed so much to his friend. "Sherlock doesn't like her." He said simply. Then, because her presence did irritate him, Scott looked up just enough that she knew she was being looked at. "Not that he comes right out and says that. Spence won't ever admit that she does anything to him, but he doesn't like to talk about her and he gets that hurt sound when she comes up in conversation. Not quite sure what she did to him, but it's kind of hypocritical to me that she'd hurt him in his day to day life, but act like they're friends just because he's hurt."

"Bitch." Alex muttered lowly. That had Remy snorting and smothering a grin before he elbowed Alex. The two had always got along every time Alex showed up, which wasn't that often, really.

The door to the room opened and a nurse poked her head in. "Excuse me? Mr. Summers?"

Alex and Scott both looked up and said "Yes?" at the same time. The woman looked back and forth between them before finally deciding to just address them both. "There's a Dr. McCoy out here that claims you sent for him. Should I send him down?"

"Yes, please." Scott answered quickly. It was time to get this show on the road. The sooner they got Spencer out of here, the better.


	3. Chapter 3

The transfer from the hospital to the mansion went surprisingly well. Scott supposed it helped that Hank sedated Spencer before they did anything. While Remy drove Alex to the mansion, Scott opted to ride with Hank and Jean, who had come to assist. Scott took a moment while Spencer was being loaded to say his goodbyes to the BAU team—they had to return back because of work—and he made promises to them that he'd keep in contact and let them know how Spencer was doing. Not only that, but there was going to be fallout from this at the Bureau and he needed to keep in contact to find out what would happen. If they were lucky, the team would be able to play it off as someone simply taking Spencer and hurting him, keeping the mutant bashing part of it quiet. But the Bureau had to be informed what happened. Especially with what the doctor said about Spencer's leg. If he couldn't ever walk without a cane again, working out in the field wasn't going to be possible. Scott tried not to think on that too much yet. He was going to wait until Hank fully examined Spencer and gave his opinion before he started to plan for anything. There was no doctor he trusted more.

Their arrival at the mansion was quiet. Thankfully, someone was keeping everyone out of the way. That allowed them to get Spencer transferred into the Med Lab and set up in his hospital bed before anyone came walking in. Scott almost collapsed in relief when it was Logan who walked through the doors. The feral man didn't pause, but strode straight for Scott and pulled him into a tight hug. Scott let himself simply melt into his lover's embrace, for once not shy that someone was there to see. Usually he refused to let himself bend or lean in front of anyone. Right now, he didn't care. He needed this. "It's okay." Logan murmured in his ear. "I'm here. Everything's all right, darlin. I'm right here."

"God, Logan." His hands came up, gripping tightly in the back of Logan's shirt. Here, he was free to break a little. Here, he didn't have to be the older brother or the leader or anything but Logan's mate. Sometimes he wondered if this was the only thing that kept him sane some days. Knowing that this was always here for him, waiting, any time he needed it. Logan's arms were like a therapeutic place for him.

When they finally pulled apart, Scott was grateful for the arm that Logan left around his waist. It helped him stay upright as he led Logan over to where Spencer's bed was hidden behind the curtain. He heard his lover's sharp hiss at the first sight of Spencer. Even having already seen it, it was still a shock for Scott. Under all the bandages and bruises and such, he'd never seen Spencer look so wan. "I don't know what to do for him." Scott murmured. He reached a hand out, resting it over Spencer's arm. Hank had slipped away now that Spencer was settled, giving them a moment of privacy. "When he was talking to me…he's not just hurt out here, Lo. He's hurt inside too. There's no telling what that bastard said to him as he hurt him. But he…he was talking about being weak. He already knew without being told that he's going to be crippled. His big brain probably figured that out quickly and then jumped straight to the no more work part of things."

"Let Blue work on him, Scooter. I've seen that man work miracles. There's no telling what's gonna happen and there's no use borrowing trouble. We'll deal with it as it comes and we'll be there for him every step of the way."

Scott sighed and leaned against Logan for a moment. "I know. I just hate this. Hasn't he had enough? Hasn't he dealt with enough?" Bringing his free hand up, Scott rubbed at his temple, trying to chase away the headache that was growing by leaps and bounds. He should have known better than to indulge in front of Logan, though. The other man saw and he knew what that gesture meant. "Come on." He said abruptly. His arm tightened around Scott's waist and he was moving him away from the bed. "Ya need to lie down before that headache turns into a full blown migraine."

"I need to stay here." Scott protested.

That was as far as he got. Hank was close enough to have heard them and he spoke up, telling them "With what I gave him and the surgeries he underwent this morning, Spencer will be out for hours, if not the whole night. You would do no good sitting at his bedside, Fearless. I assure you, at the first sign of trouble I will contact you."

This wasn't an argument he was going to win. "Thank you, Hank." He said, giving in. He allowed Logan to lead him upstairs and to their room, even going so far as to let the man strip him down, trading out his glasses for his sleeping goggles, and pretty much tuck him into bed. Scott would have protested, thinking Logan was leaving, but he saw his lover was just stripping down as well. Then Logan slid between the sheets, gathering Scott close. "Just hold on to me a while." Logan told him softly. "Quit trying to be so damn strong and just bend for a bit, darlin. I've got ya."

What else could he do? The stress of the day finally crashed down on him and Scott curled tightly against his lover, holding on for dear life.

* * *

Dreams assaulted Spencer's sleep. The terror of them ripped apart his insides like the memories that replayed over and over in his sleep were razor sharp. When hands grabbed him, holding him down, his body started to wake, but his mind couldn't separate between the dream and reality. His body tried to buck free from the hands that held him.

"Spencer!"

Someone shouted his name. Was he hearing things? That sounded like Scott! But Scott wasn't here. He couldn't save him. No one could save him. The pain ripped down his body and the hands were holding him down so that he couldn't get up. The sobs tried so hard to break free but he refused to let them out. He could feel people touching him, touching his skin, touching places they should never touch, and they were hurting him. God, _God_, they were _hurting_ him! "Scott." He sobbed the single word in a childlike plea for so much. Through a throat so dry he could barely rasp, he repeated a litany, over and over, praying for help, not even realizing the words were being said out loud. "Scotty, please. Scotty, _Scotty_. Make it stop. Make it _stop_!"

Hands cupped his face in such a gentle way that Spencer instantly noticed the difference. This time he was almost positive it was Scott's voice right by him. "I'm here, honey. I'm right here. I've got you now and you're safe. Come on, Spence, wake up. Come on. You're having a bad dream. Wake up for Scotty, please? Wake up and let me see those eyes of yours."

Reality broke through the dream state like a tidal wave. Spencer gasped for air, his eyes flying open, body screaming at him as his muscles tightened and his body stilled. The other hands holding him were gone. Just Scott's hands, cupping his face, thumbs running over his cheekbones. And there was Scott right in front of him, looking down at him with so much concern on his face. Spencer felt the tears building in his eyes and tried to blink them back. "Scotty." He breathed out.

Scott sighed out with relief. "That's right, honey. I'm right here. You were just having a bad dream."

Little trembles were starting to quiver over Spencer's frame. But he became acutely aware of the others around his bed and he fought to hold himself together. He was not going to break in front of a crowd. He would not do it. Part of him recognized the people standing around him; Logan, Alex, Hank, Jean, the one he thought he remembered Scott calling Remy, and Bishop.

Without looking way from Spencer, Scott murmured "Logan?" The word carried so much more to it than him simply saying the man's name. Logan understood. In short order, he was ushering people away until only Scott and Alex were left. Scott kept his hands on Spencer's face as he sat down on the edge of the bed, right near Spencer's hip. Alex sat down on the bed as well, across from Scott. "You're safe at the mansion, pidge." Alex told him gently.

Scott kept stroking his thumbs over Spencer's cheekbones, careful of the bruising there. His touch was feather light and soothing. "Talk to us, Spence. Don't shut it off. Talk to us."

Could he do it? Spencer shuddered and rested his head back against the pillow. He was grateful the bed was inclined so at least he wasn't flat on his back. "I'm sorry."

Confusion was bright in Alex's voice. "For what, pidge?"

"I was stupid." He had to pause, trying to wet his throat. The hands on his face disappeared and he opened his eyes in time to see a little cup with a straw in Scott's hands, being held out to him. He took only little sips, enough to wet his throat, knowing that he had to be careful. When Scott took the cup away, Spencer made himself start talking again. He made himself say what he had to say. "I should've paid more attention. I should've sensed him coming. But the guy blitzed me." He could remember the shock of the pain right before he'd dropped and everything had gone dark. Spencer's breath shuddered slightly and he wanted to close his eyes so that he didn't have to look at his brothers, but he didn't want to see those images once more. He stared between the two at the wall across from him, blinking rapidly to try and control the tears that were trying to break free. "I…I tried to stop them, I did. I swear I did. But they, they wouldn't stop. They kept taunting me and, and laughing and…t-touching me." His throat closed off then. He couldn't keep going.

He felt Alex's anger boiling in him before the man shielded it. The only thing he could feel from Scott was love.

"Fuck." Alex said suddenly. "Fuck, Spencer. Did you just say 'they'? As in, more than one?"

Air whooshed out of Spencer's throat. "F-Four."

"Fuck!" Louder this time, Alex almost shouted the word. "Fucking shit, man. Those Fed idiots only got _one_!"

They'd only got one? "What?" Spencer's eyes snapped to Scott, the stable one, the one he knew would have the answers. The shock on Scott's face was enough of an answer. "No" The word slipped out, followed quickly by another. "No." Then another, louder this time "No!" until they were tripping over one another, spilling from him like screams, ripping out of his throat and echoing around him. Scott's hands were there again, trying to calm him, but nothing could calm him. Spencer felt the panic growing and the blackness that started to tug at the edges of his vision. This time, he welcomed it. He let that blackness grow until it pulled him down and under, away from things that could hurt him.

* * *

Scott clenched his hands into fists as he watched Hank examine Spencer. He was not only checking on why he passed out, but he'd taken the time to check the stitches in Spencer's stomach that had started to sluggishly bleed after the way he'd tried to break free from his nightmare. Finally the doctor stood up, tucking his stethoscope into his pocket. "Everything appears fine." He reassured them all. "It was most likely a combination of the trauma on his body and the stress in his mind. His brain needed to shut down for a bit to process everything." Reaching out, the man clapped a hand on Scott's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Give him time, Scott. This is quite a lot for a mind and body to process."

"He can have all the time he needs." Scott said. His voice had gone hard and flat. "You watch over him. While he rests, I'm going to go hunt down the other three bastards and rip them apart with my bare fucking hands."

A few of the people in the room startled at hearing Scott talk like that. They'd heard him swear, but never with that much venom in his voice. Jean reached out toward him, not quite able to make herself touch him. She had never seen him this mad. "Scott, I think you need to take a deep breath."

"Like hell." He snapped. His hands were still in fists on either side of him. "Do you see what they did to him, Jean? Did you hear him? He hasn't been that terrified of being touched by Alex and I in _years_!" A shudder ran down Scott's body. He felt Logan's hand settle in the small of his back and he let it soothe some of the raw ache in him.

Alex was just as furious as Scott, only his was more visible. "Those bastards did more than just beat the hell out of him." He almost growled the words out. "I haven't heard him scream for you like that since he was a teen, Scott."

"I know." Scott croaked.

"You've gotta stay with him. You're the only one that can calm him down from those dreams. You stay here and keep him sane. _I'll_ go kill the fucking bastards that put that fear back in him."

"No one is killing anyone." Another voice spoke up. All eyes turned toward the bed where Spencer was watching them, surprisingly conscious and looking much more controlled than he had moments ago. Being in the mansion, safe away from the rest of the world, Hank had removed Spencer's contacts so that his true eye color showed through. The blue, purple and pink irises usually seemed to sparkle with that inner energy. Right now, they were muted, almost dull. But Spencer's voice was firmer than it had been. "You'll call Hotch and you'll tell him that there are three more Unsubs to look for. My…the team will find them." His little pause was barely noticeable, but the others heard it.

While the others looked surprised that Spencer had woken so quickly, Alex looked like a kid who'd been told Christmas was cancelled. "Are you kidding me, Spence?"

"I'll not turn you into murderers because of me." Spencer said flatly. "And you wouldn't be able to control yourself if you did catch them. So no, Alex. I am not kidding. I am extremely serious."

"Luckily being older than you means that I don't have to listen to you."

Narrowing his eyes, Spencer glared at him. "Don't push this, Alex. Let it go."

Alex turned to fully glare back. "Let it go? I'm supposed to just let it go when a group of fuckwads comes and beats the shit out of my brother? I'm supposed to let that go?"

"You're supposed to let it go because I asked you to!" Spencer shot back. He winced from his shout and his voice lowered slightly. "And fuckwads is not a word."

"I'm making it a word. That's what they are, Spencer. Wads of fuck."

"You cannot wad up fuck. It's not a noun, it's a verb, you ignoramus."

"Fine then." Alex huffed at him. "Fucktards. Dickweeds. Asswipes. Shitbrains. Take your pick, Spence!"

A loud groan issued from Spencer and he laid his head back on the bed. "I am tired and sore." He said slowly and carefully. "I hurt in more places than I care to admit, I recently had surgery and am therefore unable to climb out of this bed to hurt you, and I am holding on to my composure by just a single, solitary thread, and _this_ is the time you would choose to pummel me with your pitiful excuse for vocabulary?"

Somehow, Scott found his earlier tension almost faded—which was most likely Spencer's intention—and a reluctant smile taking its place. "Alex, quit trying to make Spencer's brain explode." He said with a soft chuckle. "You know he can't stand your made up words on a good day."

"But I've been saving them up for him!" Alex protested. The twinkle in his eyes told Scott that Alex was doing this on purpose, simply to irritate and distract Spencer. "Every time I hear a new one, I memorize it, just so I can share it with him."

This time Spencer's groan was even louder. "Dr. McCoy?" He called out.

Immediately the doctor moved toward the bed. "Yes, Spencer? What is it?"

"Would you kindly give me a sedative so that I don't have to be subjected to whatever atrocity is about to exit Alex's mouth today? I doubt I can handle it."

The others in the room were chuckling. Jean and Bishop were smiling while Remy was grinning and Logan was outright laughing. Scott shook his head and made his way back toward Spencer's bed, purposely bumping his shoulder into Alex as he went. "You're not getting out of it that easy." He told Spencer. "If I'm stuck listening to it, then so are you."

A wide grin spread over Alex's lips. "There're some great ones, kid. I was in LA and I heard one girl call another girl a twat monkey. And this other chick, she was having a bad day I guess, cause when her friend asked her how she was, she said she was craptastic. How about that? Craptastic. Man, it's awesome."

"Oh sweet Lord." Spencer closed his eyes tightly. "I take it back, Alex. Go commit murder. Go. Go to jail. _Anything_ that is going to stop me from having to listen to this verbal assault. Scott, don't you have to go talk to the team?" Opening his eyes, Spencer looked to his oldest brother. "If you have any love for me whatsoever, you will take him with you."

Scott smothered a snicker. He could see how hard Spencer was fighting to act normal and how tightly strung he was at the moment. He was holding things down underneath a shield that was cracked in places. Who knew how long it would hold. But, like always, the kid was trying to take care of the people around him, not himself. He knew how upset and stressed both Alex and Scott were and he was trying to break up the tension for them and soothe them down with humor and familiar bickering. Never mind that all the conversation had to be killing his bruised throat and stitched up lip. Scott wanted to shake his head at the self-sacrificing little brat. Instead, he rolled his eyes and smiled. "Don't worry; I'll take him with me. We'll let your team deal with him, how about that? Give them a whole new respect for you. You want some company while I go?"

"Remy'll stay." Remy spoke up, surprising them. It was common knowledge that the Cajun was not fond of any kind of medical setting. He'd visit friends down here, for short periods of time, but never for very long. The Med Lab was one of his least favorite places. To hear him willingly offer to stay here had them looking at him with surprise. Still, Scott wasn't about to turn down the offer. "Thanks, Remy."

"_Pas de problème, mon ami_." With an impish grin, Remy pulled a chair up and sat down by Spencer's bed, hooking his arms on the side so he could better turn his grin on the young man. "Been dying to get to know y'r younger _frère_, Scotty. Imagine de stories he knows, yeah?"

A slow smile was growing on Spencer's lips. "I should tell you about this science experiment that I did…"

One of Scott's hands came up to carefully cover Spencer's mouth. "I think you're supposed to be resting, you brat. You shouldn't be exerting yourself by talking too much."

Laughter bounced around the Med Lab. Taking his hand away, Scott looked down at Spencer, enjoying the way his eyes seemed to be a little more alive than they'd been before. The others in the room were moving toward the doors again, so Scott felt comfortable in indulging himself by stroking his hand over Spencer's hair in an almost paternal fashion. "I'll be back down before you know it, Sherlock."

"I'm fine, Scotty." But Spencer turned his head just enough to let it rest against Scott's palm for a second. Then he straightened it back out. "Go. Go let Hotch know what's going on and go deal with your own team. Take some time to do paperwork and those other things that are never-ending. And take the handicapped wonder over there with you."

Scott hooked an arm around Alex before the man could turn and say something equally insulting back at Spencer. With a roll of his eyes no one could see, he dragged Alex out of the room, enjoying the snickers that were coming from Spencer's hospital bed.

* * *

_A/N:_

_I'm apparently more motivated than normal. I got another chapter beta'd here for your reading pleasure. It probably has something to do with all the reviews, favs and follows that keep rolling in. You guys have no idea how much those motivate me! I'm a fickle being, you know ;) If I don't think a story is popular, well, I'm bad, I'm not inclined to write on it. But people really seem to like this and that just thrills me! Especially since I wrote this FOREVER ago and I'm really just cleaning it up for you guys, and writing on the future parts of it, of course lol. So keep those reviews and such rolling in! You guys are fantastic. Mm. Now I'm giggling. I feel like I just channeled a little of the 9th doctor. I can't say fantastic without thinking of him :D_

_As for the reviews, I wanted to say:_

_Intoxicated soul: I'm glad you're eager for this! I'm eager to see if you'll keep liking it, lol. These two do fit together great, don't they? I wish more people wrote them! I'm like, the only one to ship these two. I can't even find fan art lol._

_DeputyDog: You're welcome for that extra chapter! I know there wasn't much interaction between the two so far, but next chapter they'll start to get friendlier, I promise. :)_

_ 4: I love to hear that my chapter made you smile. And I'm super freaking happy that you liked this chap. When I was reading it through, I worried it might sound a bit cheesy. But then I realized, I warned people at the start that this was my soap opera, so a little cheese is okay, right? Right :D And let me add a huge WOO HOO for finding someone else that thinks Ashley is a bitch. I really just, ugh, I don't like her. No, not at all. Glad to know I'm not the only one ;)_

_readaddict123: Glad you loved it! Hope you liked this one just as much :)_


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as the Med Lab emptied, Spencer took a careful breath and let himself relax backwards. As much as he loved Scott and Alex, right then he didn't know if he had the energy to handle them. Especially not Alex. The man felt so _much_ so _strongly._ Typically, that wasn't a bad thing, but right now Spencer felt too raw on the inside. His body hurt, yes, but more than anything else, his heart and his brain hurt. It felt like he'd been dragged through the wringer on the inside. Resisting the urge to sigh, he looked over at his bedside companion. "You don't have to stay with me." He reassured the man. "Scott's just a little overprotective. I don't want to inconvenience you."

"_Non, mon ami_, it's not an inconvenience." Remy said pleasantly. He was smiling at Spencer in a friendly sort of way. "Don't know how Remy aint managed to meet y' yet after all dese years he been here. Figure dis be de best time to do it, _oui_? Y' can't run away from me."

The urge to smile surprised Spencer. "Do people frequently run away from you when you talk to them?" He teased. It surprised him to feel the quick flash of pain from Remy that was soon smothered down. Licking his lips—wincing slightly as he felt the stitches—Spencer looked at the man's face, trying to read him as Remy said "More dan y'd t'ink. But dat's fine. Remy, he's got Scotty and Logan and dat's enough f' dis Cajun. Dey're good _hommes_."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry into a sensitive topic." He remembered Scott talking about how Remy was treated here and cursed himself for making such a callous joke. Automatically he sought to change the subject and soothe down the person beside him. "So I hear you and I are almost alike in some ways."

"_Quoi_?"

Spencer smiled at him. "I have empathy as well, and a charge of my own, so to speak. Not kinetic energy like yours, though. Where Scott has his optic blasts and Alex has his cosmic energy, I have electrical energy. Actually, your arrival at the mansion sparked some interest in the professor for a while to try and study if empathic powers are always paired with some sort of charge, thought obviously not all charges are paired with empathy. It's an interesting study, really, if you think about it."

"_Dieu_." Remy breathed the word out. Concern suddenly was coming from him. "Y'r an empath? Cher, _je suis désolé_."

"Why are you apologizing?" Confused, Spencer turned his head a little more to better be able to watch the Cajun's face.

Remy looked heartbreakingly sad in that moment. He lifted his sunglasses up, settling them on top of his head. Having heard about Remy's eyes from Scott gave Spencer the ability not to feel any surprise at the sight of them. He didn't feel shocked or uncomfortable either, as he imagined plenty of people did. No, oddly enough, he found them striking in an attractive sort of way. He didn't take time to focus on that, however. Instead, he focused on the obvious emotion in them. Remy brought one hand up to rest on the bed by Spencer's arm. "Know what it feels like, me. Know how it feels to be hurt by people and be drugged so dat y'r shields can't go up. De emotional hurt, it's worse dan de physical, _oui_?"

That had Spencer grimacing. He put a lock on what he felt, shoving it down inside. He couldn't deal with that right now. He just couldn't. _Don't think about it right now. You're here, you're safe, and no one can touch you here. No one can get past everyone here to get to you. You're safe. Don't think about it._ Instead, true to form, he focused on the pain of the person near him. "I'm sorry, Remy. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

"_Merde_, me neither, cher. De feelings, dey do go away, though. Surround y'rself with positive feelings when y' can and find a way to let out de negative. Dat's de only t'ing Remy can recommend dat might help y'." His look transformed then, flashing to a charming smile. "T'ink of it like laugh therapy, yeah. Remy can help y' with dat. Can come down and tell y' stories dat'll have y' laughing till y' burst. And a few other t'ings, too, dat no one else can do." As he said that, Remy projected calm and peace toward Spencer, the emotions so soothing against his raw mind. Spencer sighed a little and actually felt his body relax slightly at the feeling of the positive emotions. Not many people realized just how physical of an effect emotion could have. The warm emotions were pushing away some of his tension, allowing his tight muscles to relax, and allowing the exhaustion he'd been battling to slip back in. "You know." He said softly. "The first time I linked with Scott and let him feel how I do, he almost fell over in shock when he discovered that happy emotions really feel like the 'warm fuzzies' that they're nicknamed."

"_Mais_ dey sure be nice though, yeah? Like a therapy all on dey own."

The warmth of the emotions and the drugs in the IV were combining to pull Spencer back down toward sleep faster than he could fight. "Thanks, Remy." He murmured. The last thing he heard was Remy's murmured "Y'r welcome, cher. Y'r definitely welcome."

* * *

The next couple days were sort of hazy for Spencer. He knew that Hank was keeping him a little more medicated than he might on average, adding in an anti-anxiety medication that left Spencer a little mellow, but for once he wasn't complaining about it. Spencer had very adverse reactions to being a patient in a medical facility. He was perfectly content to be in a lab so long as he was the one in the lab coat, doing the experiments himself. But he didn't do well when he was the patient. Panic was generally the only thing he could feel when he had to be in a hospital or a lab setting like this for an extended period of time and he had to be the patient. Because of that, Scott set up a schedule so that Spencer was never alone, ignoring Spencer's halfhearted protests.

During the day, his guests alternated, relieving one another in shifts. It helped that Spencer was friendly with quite a few people in the house. In the morning, Hank sat with him, falling into deep scientific discussions that distracted Spencer's brain and allowed him to think of anything _other_ than what happened. Not long after that, Logan usually showed up, switching out for the early afternoon shift. After him would come Jean. And after her, Remy. Those visits, Spencer found himself really enjoying. He liked the Cajun, with his quick grins and laid back personality, and even the deeper soul that seemed to peek out from underneath. There was more to Remy than met the eyes. It intrigued Spencer. The puzzle that was Remy was an interesting distraction. Plus, the man carried a wide array of knowledge, and Spencer never quite knew what they were going to end up talking about. One visit it could be an in depth discussion of Botticelli and what should be considered his best works, while the next visit they discussed a case Spencer had worked on with the team involving an cannibalism.

In the evening, Alex and Scott would come down, joining him for dinner. Because of his hands, Spencer couldn't feed himself. That was embarrassing, in and of itself, but the one time that Alex tried to tease him about it, Scott had thumped him solidly upside the head and that had been the end of it. The two had launched into an argument over hitting each other that had left Spencer rolling his eyes, but the subject of Spencer's inability to feed himself hadn't been brought up again.

Once the evening wound down, Scott would go to catch some sleep with Logan while Alex would take the first half of the night shift. No matter that Spencer protested—even if he didn't really mean those protests—neither brother would let him convince them that he would be fine overnight. So, Alex took first shift and then, when Logan started his night security shift, Scott came down and relieved Alex and he sat with Spencer. Or, well, stretched out on the bed next to his. It worked out for them and it worked perfectly for Spencer, because the second half of the night was usually when the nightmares that were plaguing him would finally wake him up. Though he knew it was unhealthy, Spencer had been pushing back everything that had happened to him when it was daytime. He let himself focus on the people around him and just pretend that nothing had happened. It helped that no one was pushing him to talk about it. No one was forcing him quite yet. Plus, there was nowhere that Spencer felt safer than here. Scott and Alex were here, two people who never failed to make him feel safe. He knew they would never let anything happen to him. Add in the other members of the household, all of whom went around basically armed and battle ready, and how could any person _not_ feel safe?

So, during the day, he could almost pretend that he'd never been kidnapped, drugged, beaten…but only during the day.

At night, those fears plagued him in the form of nightmares, replaying the images his eidetic memory preserved in startling clarity. And, as had happened so often when he was younger, he'd wake up begging for his oldest brother. At those times, Scott was the only person he wanted to see. The most steady, reliable person Spencer had ever had in his life. No matter what went down, Scott was always there for him, always someone he could lean on even when he didn't want to. In many ways, Scott was more a father to him than his biological father or William Reid ever had been.

But by the sixth day, Spencer felt like he was going to go insane. He was ready to try _moving_. He was ready to do anything other than lie in this bed like a bump on a log. More than that, he was about to burst at the seams from being around all this electricity, with shields that hadn't come back to full strength yet, and not being able to channel out a single bit of it.

At the moment, he was working hard to convince Hank to get him out of the lab and somewhere that he could release in some way. "Come on, Hank. Do you have any idea what it feels like in here?" Spencer pleaded with him. There was no one else in the room, so Spencer had no shame in begging and pleading to get what he wanted from the man. "It's like sticking an alcoholic in a room full of alcohol! You've _got_ to let me get out of here and do _something_ before I start frying your machines!"

"I suppose we could think of something." Hank said slowly. He was looking down at Spencer, arms crossed over his chest. "I cannot use the typical machinery on you; it triggers your electricity too much. And anymore, I cannot even keep the vitals machine on you." Spencer had fried two of them already while sleeping.

Licking over his lip, Spencer held back the wince when he encountered his stitches. "Come on, Hank. You know I need this. Using my electricity usually accelerates my healing; you know that. This could be beneficial to me in multiple ways. I'm actually surprised you haven't ordered it as part of my treatment!" It had been after his knee surgery that Spencer had discovered just how he could manipulate the electricity inside of his own body, using it to stimulate the cells inside of him and encourage their growth and healing. It made sense, really. Studies had been done on the benefits of electrical stimulation on healing bone fractures as well as other injuries. In studies, the most notable effect is that a certain type of electrical stimulation seems to cause bone cells to proliferate. There are other cellular effects of electrical currents on the broken bone, but by stimulating bone cells to divide, healing of bone is accelerated. Electrical stimulation can also help speed wound healing by increasing capillary density and perfusion, improving wound oxygenation, and encouraging granulation and fibroblast activity.

Spencer just took that knowledge and put it to use with his own control of electricity. Then he fine-tuned it to use it at a much deeper level than the average person could. While he couldn't remake something that was gone, he could help speed the process of healing along. Minor cuts and bruises were easy to heal; the bigger the injury, the more it took to help and the more it took out of him to do it.

The doctor gave him a dry look. "I was unsure as to whether your body would be able to handle the physical stress of conducting it, as you very well know. I know that you had the same fears, otherwise you would have brought it up before now, young man."

He couldn't really argue that. It was most definitely the truth. But Spencer knew he had to try now. Even if it was just a little, he had to try. He was starting to get that itchy feeling along his skin that came from holding in his charge for too long. It reminded him of the times that he'd lost control of himself. "I need this, Hank." He said in a voice gone soft and serious. "Healthy or not, a risk or not, I need it, or else I'm afraid I'm going to end up short circuiting the entire household. Please."

That was all it took. Hank nodded at him and said "I will call Fearless and get it arranged for you to have a session in the Danger Room. We'll pull up something for you to work with in there to burn this out."

"Thank you."

And that was how, half an hour later, Spencer found himself being wheeled into the Danger Room. Though Scott had instantly agreed to take Spencer in, it had taken the full half hour just to prepare Spencer and to unhook him from all the equipment that was hooked to him. One huge benefit to this all, in his eyes—the catheter that Hank had kept in, citing that Spencer was unable to get up and walk around because of his surgery and couldn't do much because of his restricted hands anyways, was finally removed. If Spencer had anything to say about it, the thing would _stay_ out. The only thing that kept that from being extremely embarrassing was that Hank was one of the kindest and most discreet medical professionals that Spencer had ever met. He had a great bedside manner and a way of making a patient feel at ease, no matter what he was doing.

Scott pushed the wheelchair into the center of the room, waiting until the doors closed before calling up the appropriate setting. The world around them changed and Spencer found himself sitting in his chair in the middle of a wide open field in which the only things for miles and miles were just a couple transmission towers. This must've been a scenario that Scott had made specifically for Spencer. The electricity in them had Spencer's hands tingling in anticipation. "Let's get the chair out of the way." He recommended.

This was the part of things that, while he understood the reasoning, Scott wasn't exactly happy about it. His hands were gentle as he got underneath Spencer's good arm, bracing him and holding his weight so that Spencer could stand on his one good leg. That much movement was a whole new lesson in pain. Spencer fought hard to keep from screaming as every pain in him roared to life. From shoulder to toe, he felt like he was being beaten from the inside out, cut apart with a knife even as little hammers were slamming into him. It was so much worse because he'd had the IV removed as soon as Hank agreed to let him in here. There was no way he was going to use his powers like this while under the influence of anything. But that meant there was plenty of room for the pain and anxiety to move back in.

Scott knocked the chair out of the way and started lowering Spencer before he'd fully got upright. There was no way Spencer would have been able to stay on his feet long enough to do anything. He had to sit down in the grass. Channeling electricity in a wheelchair was just about asking for trouble, so he'd made Scott agree to help him down to the ground.

Though he kept his shields tight and any sound locked behind his lips, Spencer couldn't help but close his eyes tightly as he lay back on the grass. For a long moment, he just let his body lay there, hating how weak he was. He hated how much pain he was still in. On their own, any of these injuries would be starting to heal a bit, the pain level going down. It was the combination of them, and most in close proximity to each other, that was making this recovery so difficult. Add on the low mental reserves from dealing with the emotions of his attackers and he was definitely healing slower than he should. His hopes were that this would help.

"I got it." He finally made himself say to Scott. The pain was back down to a manageable level now. "Go on. Get the chair and get on out. I'll wait until you've left."

"And who said I'm going anywhere?" The tone to that voice was one that Spencer knew well. He could even picture the way Scott would have one eyebrow quirked up—the man could speak with his eyebrows the same the average person could with their eyes.

Spencer tried to keep the tingle in just his hands, wanting to hold it off until Scott was safely out of here. "I don't have the best control right now, Scott. Of either of my powers. I need to let my shields down in here, where I know it's safe."

"Then do it." A warm hand brushed over his cheek before he felt the man settle down beside him on the grass. "You've put your shields down around me before, Sherlock. That's why I'm the one that's in here. And your electricity has never directly hurt me before. So I'm not going anywhere, okay? You just do what it is you need to do."

The man was right. His powers had never 'directly' hurt Scott before; something amongst the brothers seemed to grant them a sort of immunity to each other's forms of energy. At least, in a serious sense. They found ways around that. Scott didn't have to hit them directly with his optic blasts. The man had been known to take out the legs of their chairs, though, or objects in their hands. Alex didn't use his powers against them, but he was the more physical of the group anyways. And Spencer, well, he might not have been able to hit them directly with electricity, but he'd charged objects and used them like a Taser, or he sent energy balls to act much like Scott's blasts and take chairs out from underneath his brothers and things like that.

Spencer gave a soft little sigh as he gave up the fight. That didn't stop him from saying "Stubborn ass."

"Spoiled brat."

"Shut up, Scott. I'm trying to concentrate." He said playfully. Slowly he was relaxing his body, preparing for what he was going to do. Honestly, he was slightly scared and procrastinating. What if his body wasn't ready to handle this yet? What if it was too much?

Scott snorted beside him. "Yes, because that big brain of yours can only run on one function at once. We all know that when you think, your ears can tend to shut off."

Annoyance had Spencer taking that first step. He pulled electricity from one of the nearby towers and let it form a bolt of lightning, snapping it down right beside his brother. "You keep interrupting my concentration and I may not be able to control my aim so well. It's been a while since we've tested just how immune you are to my powers. Keep that in mind."

"Quit stalling and get to work, short stack."

Somehow, he found himself wanting to growl and laugh all at the same time. He gave it up and turned his attention to the whole reason he was in here. Time to see how much he could handle. It was easy, opening himself up and finding the electricity around him. Just a small touch of one of the transmission towers, meshing their energy with his own, and Spencer was in business. He _flexed_ that muscle in his head, feeling the tingle grow in his hands, and then he _pulled_, drawing the power into him. It was always a rush to feel that energy inside of him. Now, it was more so. There was pain and there was pleasure in it, coiling together until he couldn't tell them apart.

He could feel his cells electrifying. The bruises and cuts still on his skin were tingling as the healing process sped up. To heal his whole body would take multiple sessions like this, spread out. He didn't have instant healing; not at all. But he could speed up little bits here and there and that was what he did. He channeled the energy to specific places. The first was his face, letting it work on the bruising and the break in his nose. That, he knew he could heal now, and easily. It wasn't that bad after six days.

When that felt like he had done as best as he could, he moved to his stomach, letting the energy course through there, working to accelerate the healing on the inside. The pain of it all, he pushed aside, ignoring it. There was always pain to do this. That was part of the tradeoff. He drew more energy, pulling it in to charge his hands, trying to mend as much of the breaks as possible. His right hand only had two broken fingers. Those he worked on first, running the charge through his bones, feeling them start to knit back together. That too was painful, but nothing he couldn't deal with.

He had to pull back—too much more and he'd drain his body's energy, trying to heal this way. Too much more and he'd cause damage instead of healing it. So Spencer drew it out of his body, letting it out into the air around him. He opened his eyes and smiled up at the sky. Then he lifted one aching hand to point upwards. "Watch." He told Scott. Now that the serious part was done, it was time for the enjoyable part. Time to release what was inside of him. Spencer took a deep breath and then he let it go. The power he'd built in the sky now released, forks of blue, pink and purple lightning dancing all around them in a lightning storm that was beautiful and deadly all at the same time.

Slowly the electricity and lightning faded until there was none left around them but what sat in the towers. It faded off Spencer's skin, taking the last of the tingle with it. The residual ache was there, yes, but even he could tell that his injuries were less. His right hand flexed in the bandages, feeling stiff and tender, yet he knew the bones were knitted together once more. A little physical therapy and that hand would start to be as good as new. His left hand still had broken fingers; he'd purposely fixed his dominant hand first. His nose was healed. Where they'd removed his appendix was healed on the inside, but the incisions were still there and the stitches still had to stay. The stitches were still in his lip—no point extending healing for a wound he considered superficial—and the bruises on his neck were there still as well. While the cracks in his ribs were better, the bruising was still there, making him extremely tender around his waist. What was important was that he at least had a hand back. His leg…he hadn't touched that. Hadn't wanted to. Or, more accurately, he was terrified to. Terrified of the damage he'd find there.

"All clear?" Scott asked him calmly.

"All clear. Help me try and sit up?"

Scott sat up next to him. However, he didn't help Spencer sit up. Instead, he looked down at him, his body shielding Spencer from the bright light of the sun—or, the artificial sun of the Danger Room. "Does it always hurt you when you heal like that?"

Hurt him? How did Scot know it hurt him? Almost instantly Spencer had the answer. He sighed and closed his eyes. "My shields slipped, didn't they?" He'd thought he'd controlled the empathy. Apparently not.

"Don't shut me out, Spencer. You've been shutting me out since we brought you here."

He knew he had. Still, he argued it. "I have not—"

"Shut up, Spencer. Don't even feed me that bullshit." Scott interrupted furiously. "At least have the decency not to lie to me about it. You've been shutting me and everyone else out behind this little shield you've made .You haven't asked about your team, about the guy they captured, or even if we've found any of the other three. You haven't said a damn word about any of it."

Temper and pain clawed at Spencer's stomach. "I don't want to talk about this." He said in a flat voice. His shields went up tighter and he forced his emotions down as tightly as possible. He didn't want to think about this. He didn't want to feel this. He wasn't _ready_ to feel this. "I want to leave now."

He heard the sounds of Scott shifting in the grass. "Well, that isn't going to happen. I'm not going to let you shut down on me."

"It isn't your choice." Drawing his electricity, Spencer converted it and made it react with the metal of the chair, working like a magnet to draw it to him. Then he moved, hands reaching out, but Scott was there and he was grabbing hold of Spencer. "You stubborn jackass, are you _trying_ to hurt yourself more?"

"I don't care." He heard himself say. "I don't care. I want out of here." Panic was licking at his insides. Trembling, Spencer let Scott help him into the chair.

As soon as Spencer was seated, Scott crouched down in front of him, adjusting his leg in the extended leg brace of the chair. His voice was decidedly softer when he spoke again. "You can't run away forever, Sherlock."

It was the love and the sympathy that he could feel from Scott that was his undoing. His shields just couldn't hold up over it. From anyone else, yes, but not from his brother. He never could resist the emotions from his brothers as well as he could against anyone else. They seemed to slip right past the shields he put up. Spencer felt as they started to crumble and he felt his hands start to shake. "What do you want me to do?" He asked in a voice so raw and full of pain that it made Scott flinch. "What do you want from me, Scotty? You want me to talk about how they beat the hell out of me? You want me to tell you how they _laughed_ at me? Is that what you want?" The words started to tumble out of him, falling from that broken place inside of him that he worked so hard to pretend didn't exist. "You want me to tell you all about how they threatened me? How they wanted me to show my friends what happens to freaks like me? You want to hear how they swore they'd kill me if I ever told on them? Is that what you want?"

All around him, the transformers started to glow, the electricity in them growing. Spencer didn't care. The pain from gathering the electricity was a welcome distraction from what was building inside of him.

"Am I supposed to open up and just spill all of this to you, Scotty?" He hissed at his brother. "Is that what you want? Huh? You want me to talk like you're some psychologist? Tell you how they hit me? You want me to recite the threats they made, word for fucking word? I can do it, you know. My memory lets me. It won't ever let me forget. Is that what you want?"

In the middle of the chaos, as the towers glowed brighter and brighter, matching the glow in Spencer's eyes, Scott calmly shifted his weight to his knees and reached up, taking Spencer's hands in his. "I want you to let it out. I want you to let go of the poison in you before it makes you sick inside. I want you to grieve. Let out your feelings instead of forcing them inside like that bastard Reid taught you to do. I want you to trust me to help you heal. Let me help you, Spencer."

Emotion clogged Spencer's throat. He felt the sincerity in those words; the love that his brother was sending to him and the strength, too. A strength that he knew would be there to help hold him up. He opened his mouth to tell Scott to let him go, but he couldn't. He couldn't make himself push the man any further away. Instead, he whispered words he hadn't intended on saying. "It hurts." He took a shuddering breath and tried to control his powers. "I know I'm pushing you away, Scotty. I just…it hurts right now. It hurts too much and I don't know how to deal with it."

"You don't have to open up and spill all the details, honey. But you can't keep pretending it didn't happen." Scott said softly. "You're never going to get past this until you can accept that it happened and grieve over it."

The power around them was slowly draining away. "I know." He answered. And he did know. He'd dealt with enough trauma victims and knew enough psychology to know that locking it away was unhealthy. "I'm not going to therapy sessions with the Professor, though. I won't do it." On that, he would remain firm.

Scott gave him the same crooked grin that all three boys shared. "I figured as much." It was well known that Spencer wasn't extremely comfortable around the Professor.

He was going to have to make some kind of concession here. Something to not only ease Scott's mind, but to put himself on the right path. He knew that this had been unhealthy for him. Apparently it had taken the stubborn man kneeling in front of him to make him motivated enough to do something about it. "I can't promise to just start talking. But I promise to, to try not to hide it so much. And I'll call my therapist back home and see if I can start phone sessions."

"Might be a good idea."

As the last of the power left the room around them, Spencer raised one eyebrow and looked at Scott, feeling just a little bit lighter inside. "You're sounding awfully smug, big brother."

"Me?" Straightening, Scott ruffled his hair, the tense moment between them broken. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

As the simulation was ended and they made their way toward the doors, Spencer felt himself smile a little.

* * *

_A/N: Wow, would you look at this? Man, I'm getting more reviews per chapter for this story than I ever thought. Squee! I hope this chapter lived up to expectation. I really, really, REALLY hope the healing portion of things made sense. The bit of information I stuck in there about different studies is things I actually researched, so I hope that made it more believable._

_IntoTheWilds: Thank you! I hope this more is what you were looking for :)_

_DeputyDog: I love the interaction between the brothers too. It's one of my favorite parts to write. They're a lot of fun to stick together._

_Hisuiko: I like to think Spencer is crafty, lol. I just see him as being that kind of a guy sometimes, especially when it comes to people he cares about._

_readaddict123: You know, I don't have a chapter with the CM pov, but as I'm reading through and fixing things up, I may add at least a small clip somewhere in the next few chapters. That's a really great idea and I'd really like to see what I can do with it. Thanks!_

_Andromeda Hayes: Thanks! You're gonna make me blush, compliments like that :P That's okay, though. I don't mind :D I'm thrilled to hear you're loving this. And yeah, I know, I put up chaps quickly on this one, huh? I was supposed to be doing 1-2 chaps a WEEK so I can have time to wrap up the story, because when I wrote it forever ago, I never finished it. But people seem to be loving it so I just keep putting up more, cause I can't resist reviews and making people happy. Bonus - it encourages me to write faster. I want to get stuff done before I catch up to the end of what's already written._

_ 4: Now, I can't answer what you said there. I'll just let your mind wonder about those Unsubs. Spoilers, dear!_

_Thanks everyone for your reviews, adds and follows! You're all spectacular :)_


	5. Chapter 5

A thorough physical examination by Hank followed Spencer's return to the Med Lab. The doctor knew that Spencer could use his electricity to accelerate his healing, but he'd had no idea that it could be done to this extent. He was amazed by how much Spencer had been able to do in just one session. It had surprised Spencer to learn that they'd been in the Danger Room for an hour already. Things hadn't really felt like they'd taken that long.

"It is astounding, the type of healing you possess." Hank commented as he checked the bones in Spencer's right hand, bending the fingers and feeling the bones underneath. "Absolutely astounding. To think that you healed broken bones!"

"Small bones like fingers are easiest." Spencer said. He pulled his hand free and flexed it himself. "I just add a small current of electricity to the area, stimulating the cells. Instead of them taking their normal healing rate, it accelerates their growth and healing. It's like taking the healing process and putting it on fast forward. I don't end up healing like Logan does, back to perfect form. This doesn't take away any type of permanent damage. It just accelerates the process." He had to pause at that, his eyes unerringly going to his leg, stretched out under the blankets. He hadn't even looked at the damage there. Anytime Hank checked those stitches or changed that bandage, Spencer looked away. The pain that was almost constantly there was enough to scare him into wanting to avoid it. He cleared his throat and dropped his hands to rest in his lap. "Doing this every other day for a week or so should bring me almost back to normal." No matter that he wanted to do it daily; he knew that would be stupid. The only way he'd get away with that was if he was doing random, little sessions. But big sessions like this one? Those would have to be every other day.

"Every other day?" Hank didn't ask as a criticism, but for understanding. He and Spencer were much alike in that aspect. They both wanted answers to things and understanding of what they dealt with. They liked facts and information and knowledge.

"Yeah. If I could, I'd do it daily. Multiple times a day. But doing this comes with its own tradeoffs. It's not healthy to stimulate the cells too much, too fast, or they can end up damaged in the process. Plus, handling that much electricity and then having freshly energized cells afterwards takes a lot of my personal energy, just like when I use my powers a lot." His eyes lifted and he looked to Scott, the two sharing a crooked grin. "Usually that means that I eat almost my weight in food to replenish that energy, as Scott can attest to."

"Trust me." Scott said dryly, one eyebrow raised. "The grocery bills were not pretty sometimes." He reached out and gave a small part of Spencer's hair a tug. "I'll get you some food in a bit, Sherlock. First, Hank, I wanted to talk to you about maybe transferring Spence up to a room upstairs. I know he's still restricted to bed, but he's going to be starting movement and I know PT is going to encourage him to move and stretch those muscles out. I was thinking that a room upstairs would do him good. He'd be forced to get up to use the restroom and things like that and he'd have a place to stretch out a little."

"And he would get his release from my labs." Hank said with a chuckle. That chuckle grew at the hopeful look Spencer suddenly wore. "Come on, Fearless. Let's step into my office to discuss what needs to be done. Then you can go arrange a room and a meal for your brother."

A grin was spreading over Spencer's face. Joy echoed around inside him. He watched the two head to Hank's office and couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. Free! He was going to be free! Okay, well, maybe not _totally_ free. He'd still be mostly bedridden and he'd probably have to use the chair for a few days until he got a little more healing time in. But in the privacy of a room upstairs, he could draw little bits of energy here and there and do a more gradual healing without worrying about frying machines or overtaxing his body. And he'd be out of the lab. That was the most important thing. He'd be out of the labs!

That grin was still on his face when he heard the Med Lab doors whoosh open. Because of the curtain around his bed, he couldn't see who came in, but he _felt_ three different people, one of which was growing increasingly familiar. That one came around the edge of the curtain, his head poking around first, a grin curving his lips. "_Bonjour, mon ami_." Remy said before sauntering over toward him. "Y'r looking better, cher. De electricity worked a little, den?" He knew that Spencer had wanted to give it a try today.

"But of course." Spencer said with a smile. He tipped his head at the sound of movement on the other side of the curtain. Someone was being put on the bed on the other side and Spencer could feel pain. He looked quickly back to Remy. "Who's been hurt?" he asked. There was no need for Remy to answer, though. Just at that moment, a voice came from the other bed and Spencer knew who it was.

"You've got to be kidding me!" The voice said nastily. "Isn't there another bed, Jean? Does it _have_ to be this one?"

A groan slipped out as Spencer rolled his eyes and looked over at the curtain separating him and Warren fucking Worthington III. "Please tell me his injury was superficial." Spencer begged Remy. "Tell me it's just something minor that is easily repaired."

The curtain between them was yanked open and Warren was sneering at him, sitting on the end of his bed. "Concerned for me, Reid?" he asked snidely.

Spencer glared right at him. "Not likely. I don't want you to have anything that requires you to stay for any extended period of time. If it's minor, it means you get to _leave_."

His tone of voice seemed to surprise Remy, but it only made Jean sigh a little. She was well used to the bickering between them. Anyone who spent time around them got to learn. "You two behave." She chided them. "Warren, just sit here while I get a few things together and get Hank. Where is he at, Spencer?"

"In his office with Scotty." Deliberately Spencer called Scott 'Scotty', knowing how much it irritated Warren. "Scotty got Hank to agree to let me be in a room upstairs, so they're in there discussing all sorts of evil things while they're out of my hearing range."

"_C'est merveilleux_!" Remy exclaimed.

Warren sneered over at him. "Yes, isn't this just great news? Now instead of being here where you can be cared for by a _doctor_, you're going to be upstairs where Scott will be forced to add caring for you into his day. Yet again, Spencer, you show your consideration to your brother. Your selflessness never fails to astound me."

"Yes, well, seeing as how it wouldn't take much to astound that pigeon brain of yours, I'm not duly impressed." Spencer's bored tone was a surefire way to put Warren's back up and he knew it. That was why he used it.

"You're so smug, aren't you? I bet you're just crowing with pleasure over having something like this happen. It's the perfect excuse to get Scott to feel sorry for you. And Lord knows, you're a pro at playing on his pity. You're not happy unless he's sacrificing everything to take care of you like some pitiful little kid."

In an instant, Spencer's annoyance flashed straight over to his rarely seen temper. "You Goddamn son of a bitch." He snarled out. His vision hazed over in red. Quick as a flash, he was grabbing the rails to his bed and trying to yank himself forward enough that he could get the hell out of this bed and go plant a fist right in Warren's smug fucking face. When Remy jumped forward, trying to pin him to the bed, Spencer bucked against him, almost managing to throw the young man off. "Let me up!" He snapped at his friend. Over Remy's shoulder, he glared at Warren, who was looking oh-so-pleased with himself. That just increased Spencer's fury.

He hadn't heard the doors open, but he did hear Alex's loud curse and then his brother was there right by Remy, pinning him down to the bed. One of his hands came up to smack the side of Spencer's head, effectively transferring his anger and attention from Warren and over to Alex. He vaguely heard Alex tell Remy "Let go, fast." And then Remy's hands were gone just seconds before Spencer put his hand against Alex's shirt and gathered an electrical charge.

He never got the chance to blow it. Scott strode right into the middle of the chaos, demanding "What are you two doing? Alex, let go of him. Spencer, quit trying to electrify Alex's clothes. Now!"

A shuddering breath left Spencer as he drew the electricity back from Alex's shirt. He shook off Alex's hands, bringing up his own to wipe over his face slightly. Shit. He really, really needed to get himself under control. He needed to not let Warren goad him like that.

Scott was staring at the group, arms crossed over his chest. "I don't know what's going on and I don't rightly know that I care. Spencer, sit back in that bed and if you so much as try to charge a thing after the amount you were using earlier, _I'm_ going to be the one to hit you. Warren, please quit looking so smug or I'll hit you, too." He delivered the last part to his friend with one of those little grins that had Spencer gritting his teeth.

"Hey!" Alex snapped out. His arms crossed over his chest as well in a pose almost identical to Scott's. "You'll just yell at Spence and I, but you joke around with the overgrown bird brain over there? How do you know he wasn't the one that started the whole damn thing?"

"I don't care who started it." Scott told him firmly. "I'm finishing it!"

Off to the side, Remy suddenly clapped a hand over his mouth, making a strangled sort of sound. Spencer could feel Remy's mirth. Over by Warren, both Hank and Jean were grinning, their good humor obvious. Scott let out a gusty sigh and brought a hand up to rub at his temples. "So help me, I'm surrounded by lunatics."

"You sound like a frazzled father." Jean teased lightly. That was enough to have Remy giving in to his snickers. Hank discreetly coughed and turned to inspect the injury that had brought Warren down here to begin with—a cut on his arm that was going to require a few stitches.

Scott gave her a dry look. "Someone has to be the parent." He turned to look at both boys and they both felt his glare even if they  
couldn't see his eyes. Just another one of Scott's many talents. "If I didn't, they'd end up killing one another or blowing up a city or something equally disastrous and then I'd have to come in anyways to clean it up."

Those words hit a little too close to Warren's earlier taunts. Spencer felt his cheeks heat and he shot a look toward Warren, who looked even more smug than before, before looking back down at his hands. "I don't need someone to clean up after me. I'm a perfectly capable adult, thank you very much." He sounded almost sullen in his protest.

"Course you are, pidge." Alex tugged a lock of his hair. "Except when we get together."

Remy looked back and forth between them, debating something. Seeing that look, Spencer cut off what he'd been about to say and turned his attention to the Cajun. He had a feeling he knew what it was that Remy was going to say. Discreetly, he shook his head at him. Remy caught the look and gave him a questioning one in return. "Cher?" He said cautiously.

Spencer shook his head again. "It doesn't matter." As much at it galled him to do it, Spencer swallowed pride. "Let it go, please. Please."

"Let what go?" Scott interrupted.

The two just continued to look at one another. Remy shifted his sunglasses up so that he could better look into Spencer's eyes. The average set of people could communicate with facial expressions if they knew one another well, but Spencer and Remy didn't know each other that well yet. They had only known one another for just shy of a week. What they did have that average people didn't was their empathy. It allowed them to watch one another and converse, not with words, but with emotions. A questioning sensation here, a calming sensation there, followed by confusion and some pleading. Finally, resignation from Remy and gratitude from Spencer.

That assurance that Remy wouldn't say anything was enough to have Spencer relaxing slightly. He looked back over to Scott. "It's nothing, Scott. I'm sorry I created trouble here. It won't happen again." Then, not giving anyone a chance to say anything different, Spencer smiled at him. "So, how soon do I get to break out of here?"

Scott stared at him, arms still crossed. It was easy to see on his face when he decided to give in. "How soon can you get in a wheelchair?"

Laughter echoed around them at how quickly Spencer started to move.

* * *

Being in a real room was definitely an improvement. Not only did he feel much more relaxed, but he finally felt like he could breathe again. He wasn't surrounded by medical equipment, hooked up to any machines, or constantly being watched by someone. No, he was lying propped up by pillows in a comfortable queen size bed, not a piece of medical paraphernalia in sight except for the bandages and stitches he still wore. He wasn't even in a hospital gown anymore. He'd pulled on a shirt borrowed from Scott and while he had only a blanket over his waist at the moment, he was intent on changing that here shortly. That, currently, was the matter up for debate.

While he was in his room and he wasn't technically under watch anymore, that didn't mean that he was actually alone. No, of course not. Scott had gone to deal with something, but Alex was there with him, 'keeping him company'. Ha. More like aggravating him. At the moment he was busy glaring and growling. "Listen, shithead, you're just gonna have to suck in your pride and let me help you get the damn shorts on." Alex cursed at him. He was currently propped up against the footboard and holding a pair of Scott's khaki shorts in his hands and a pair of boxers.

Spencer held the blanket a little tighter over his waist and tried not to either panic or sulk. Both were viable options. He knew Alex was right; that didn't mean that he had to like it. Or that he had to give in easily. It was galling to think that he had to have help putting on a simple pair of shorts. But with one hand out of commission, a bum stomach that made it hard to bend, and a leg that was bandaged and braced so much that he couldn't bend it either, he really didn't have a choice but to take some help. "Did it have to be you?" Spencer grumbled at him.

The grin that Alex got was wide. He could tell he'd won. "I know, I know. You'd rather some sexy little orderly in some thong, eh?"

"That sounds like _your_ fantasy."

"Hell yeah. Only, change the gender. Give me the stacked chick in the tight little nurse outfit." His leer had Spencer rolling his eyes.

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Without a qualm, Alex called out "Come in!"

Spencer gaped and gripped the blanket tighter. "Alex!" He hissed out, even as the door was opening. Blush flamed his cheeks. He was naked underneath this damn blanket. Naked! And Alex was just inviting people in? His blush grew worse when Remy walked in. Oh sweet Jesus. Of all people, it had to be Remy? The _one_ person at the mansion that was worth looking twice at. The hell with twice. He was the type of man a person could sit and _stare_ at. That shaggy hair, those uniquely beautiful eyes, the lean yet muscled form…he felt his cheeks heat even more and worked to cut off that train of thought.

The look that Alex gave him suddenly had Spencer worried. With good reason, too. That look never meant anything good for anyone around.

"_Bonjour_. Is dis a good time?" Remy asked them.

Alex's grin grew even more. "Perfect, Cajun. We were just discussing how Spence needs someone like you to help him."

Oh holy _fuck_. "Alexander…"

"Here, catch." Alex tossed the shorts and boxers at Remy, who reflexively caught them. Then he hopped up and strode past Remy, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed. "I'll be back with grub in a bit, brat. Enjoy!" With laughter trailing behind him, Alex made his exit, shutting the door behind him.

Mortification was not a strong enough word for what Spencer felt. He brought his good hand up to cover his face. He felt Remy's confusion and he had to close his eyes, unable to watch as Remy looked at what was in his hands. Then came the dawning realization, followed by humor, bright and warm. "Y' need a hand dere, cher?" Remy asked him teasingly.

"No." Spencer groaned out. He laid his head back against the pillows and stared up at the ceiling. "I need to kill my brother. Preferably in a slow and rather painful manner."

"Aw, come on now. Bet Remy makes a _bon_ nurse, _non_?"

Could his embarrassment get any worse? "I am not letting you dress me like a child, Remy LeBeau, so you just hush."

"Fine, den. Don't make no matter to Remy. Just gonna sit here on de end of de bed till y'r _frère _gets back and t'ink bout what's underneath dat blanket dere."

_Of course it could get worse. _He'd just had to ask. Asking if something could get worse was like daring the world to make it so. He knew that.

Well, it was either one or the other. Take a momentary embarrassment and allow Remy to help him get dressed, or risk waiting who knew how long until Alex returned, with Remy sitting at the end of the bed the whole time. "I just know I'm going to regret this." He said to himself with a sigh. "This was Alex's plan and anything that Alex plans always ends in trouble or embarrassment. Or pain." He closed his eyes and tried not to let himself be too embarrassed or uncomfortable with this whole thing. Touch was still difficult for him and Alex knew that, the bastard. _Still, what better time to start trying to get over it than right now_? Somehow, telling himself that didn't really seem to help much. "Just get this over with, Remy."

The teasing he'd felt a moment before from his friend was now a warm comforting sensation. "Aint gonna be dat bad. Y' just keep dem blankets over y'r lap and we'll get dis done together without ruining none of y'r modesty. Trust me."

The 'me' told Spencer how serious Remy was being. If the man was slipping into first person speech, he was serious about what he was saying. Spencer tipped his head down and looked right at Remy, who was sitting himself down at the foot of the bed. He gave Remy a small nod and the Cajun shifted the blankets by his feet.

The whole thing was an interesting process. Remy really _was_ a good nurse. He was gentle as he slipped both the boxers and the shorts over Spencer's injured leg and as he helped him get the top of them to just above his knees. Then he flipped the blankets back into place so that Spencer was totally covered and looked at him for a moment before grinning with whatever idea he'd come up with. "Lean forward, cher." He said suddenly. Spencer looked at him curiously. "What?"

"Lean forward." Remy repeated.

After a pause, Spencer hesitantly leaned his body forward, careful of his stomach. Much to his astonishment, Remy climbed up the bed and moved behind him, pulling pillows out of the way so that he could wiggle down and sit directly behind Spencer, a leg on either side of him. "Dere. Now, Remy can't even see." The man teased, his breath warm by Spencer's ear. "Know y' only got one good hand, me. Just tell me if dis hurts y'." Then Remy's long arms came around him, slipping under the blankets to grab the top of the boxers first, and Spencer couldn't speak. Words literally dried up in his throat. All he could do was feel as Remy's warm body completely wrapped around him. He was increasingly aware of how close those hands were to a certain part of him and he had to fight to keep that part from responding and embarrassing him.

Remy pulled on the material, bringing the boxers up first. "Lean against me." Remy advised him. "Y' t'ink y' can get y'r hips lifted?"

The slightly husky note that was suddenly in Remy's voice was enough to have Spencer shivering. He leaned back into Remy's chest, thinking to himself how perfectly he seemed to fit. Arms braced over the Cajun's, he lifted just barely, hissing a little as he did. In one smooth move, Remy had the boxers up and over his hips, the waistband snapping into place, and Spencer relaxed back down on the bed. Remy patted his arm. "First layer done. One more an den y' can relax, _mon ami_."

They got the shorts up in the same way. Once they were on, Spencer let his hips drop back down and couldn't help the gasp that came out when he did. More than anything else, lifting that way had put a strain on his knee and it was burning and throbbing to let him know that it hadn't appreciated it. He couldn't stop himself from leaning back into Remy's embrace, his head tipped back on the man's shoulder. All he could focus on was trying to breathe his way through the pain. When one of Remy's arms banded over his chest, his other hand rubbing Spencer's bicep in a soothing sort of way, the young doctor only felt gratitude. Remy was projecting kindness and reassurance at the same time as murmuring against Spencer's ear. "Just keep breathing through it, Spencey. Deep, even breaths, in and out now. Dere y' go, dat's it. Y'r doing so _bon_. It'll be gone in a minute. Breathe in now, nice and deep. Now, out, slowly."

Spencer brought his good hand up, clamping on to Remy's arm, his eyes closing and his breath trying to shudder in and out of him. Fuck, his leg _burned_! Yet, slowly, the burn faded back to the dull ache he was growing used to. As the sharper edge of the pain dropped off, he sagged back against Remy.

Neither one of them heard the door open, being so focused on what they'd been doing. But they both heard Scott ask "Am I interrupting something?"

Spencer's eyes shot open wide, showing him Scott standing in the doorway with a little smirk on his face, before slamming back shut again. Oh, God. He was never going to live this down. Scott was going to tease him mercilessly about this forever. The only way it could have been worse was if…

"Oh, damn! I guess you really did let Gambit help you get your pants on. Or, was he getting something else _off_?"

…Alex was there.

"Alex!" Scott said in a tone of disgust. "That was not a mental image I needed!"

Alex made some kind of scoffing sound. "Well, look at them! I mean, come on, Spence is all red in the face and out of breath. And he did have no pants on when I left!"

"You left him in here without pants?"

"Shoot me now." Spencer groaned out. He heard Remy's light chuckle against his ear. It surprised him that Remy hadn't moved yet. He hadn't even unwound his arm from across Spencer's chest.

The sound Scott made was half disgusted and half exasperated. "Okay you two, separate before Alex comes up with any more images to completely disgust me."

"_Mais_ Remy likes where he's at." The Cajun said silkily. He rubbed at Spencer's bicep again. "Nice and warm here, yeah. We're comfortable. Aint dat right, Spencey?" Twisting just a little, he looked at Spencer's face. Feeling Remy's amusement and seeing the grin on his face, Spencer found that he could only smile back, his own embarrassment starting to fade. If Remy was okay with this, than he would be too. And he'd take advantage of the chance to heckle his siblings. He purposely snuggled in a little more, letting his head go back to resting against Remy's shoulder. "You are surprisingly comfortable."

"Not as boney as y' thought?"

"Well, not entirely." Purposely, Spencer shifted again, turning his head just enough to quirk an eyebrow and smirk. Remy caught what he meant and threw his head back, letting out a warm sounding laugh. "Dat's it." He said when he caught his breath. "I aint moving now. I like y'."

Spencer chuckled slightly at the way his brothers were gaping at them. "You just now decided that?"

"What can I say, cher? I'm a fickle creature, me."

"Odd. Generally people try to decide if they like someone _before_ they climb in a bed with them."

Remy winked down at him. "And before dey help dem get dressed, _oui_?"

"Definitely."

Another voice joined in the mix. "You two putting on a show here?" Logan asked conversationally.

The two on the bed looked over at him and grinned widely. "Ten dollar door charge." Spencer said smoothly. Remy nodded against his shoulder, adding "But f' y', we can make dat five."

"Gag me." Alex said as he finally made his way fully into the room. About then was when Spencer noticed that the man had a tray in his hands with food on it. "Just so you know, you two are freaks."

At the sight of the tray, Remy started to shift and move off the bed. As he brought one leg over, sliding off the side of the bed, he leaned in and placed a loud kiss on Spencer's cheek. "Dat's why we get along so well." He said cheekily. Spencer blushed slightly at the kiss but he was smiling as Remy helped him readjust to the pillows. "Exactly so." He agreed with his friend. "And I have to be a freak. How else do you think I survived having you as a brother?" The last part he threw at Alex, full of good humor.

As the two started to bicker, Remy laughed and reached out, stroking a hand over Spencer's arm. "Gotta get to de Danger Room f' a session and den gotta go to town, cher. I'll come find y' in de morning, yeah? Maybe we'll play some cards."

"I'd like that." Spencer's cheeks held just a hint of pink to them.

Remy made his way out of the room, smiling his way past everyone. His intent had been to try and make a clean escape. He didn't quite make it, though. Only a foot down the hall, he heard his name called out. He stopped and turned, watching Scott step out of Spencer's room, shutting the door behind him before coming down the hall to him. Instantly Remy felt defensive. He bit his lip and tried not to babble. "Was just playing, Scotty. Don't mean no harm by it." He tried to sound casual.

That stopped Scott in his tracks. "No harm?"

Nervous, the Cajun nodded. "Just making de boy laugh, dat's all. Wasn't nothing bad. We didn't do nothing. Just helped him get his shorts on, me. He couldn't get de hands to do it with and Alex left to get some food. Remy was just trying to help."

The door to Spencer's room opened again and Alex came out, shutting the door behind him. He walked down toward them. To Remy's complete and utter shock, the man walked right up to him and wrapped him in a tight hug. Remy could barely remember to return the hug, so great was his shock. When Alex let go, Remy stumbled back a step, staring curiously at the man. What was going on here? Alex was smiling at him in a way that made Remy even more confused. His mouth almost dropped open when Alex looked at him and said "Thank you."

"Huh?" It was the only word Remy could manage to get out.

Scott was grinning at Remy's confusion. "Do you realize what you've done, Remy?" he asked him seriously. When Remy shifted, hands jamming in his pockets so he wouldn't be tempted to pull out cards and start nervously shuffling, Scott shook his head. "I haven't seen him smile like that in, God…"

"Years." Alex supplied softly.

Scott nodded. "At least."

"And he let you _touch_ him. Usually he flinches when people touch him. Sometimes even us!"

"But he let you." Scott's smile was growing again. "He let you sit with him and hug him and…I don't know what it is you've done in just a few days, but thank you. Thank you so much. In the midst of all this, you're making Sherlock look happy. Happier than I've ever seen him."

Shock had Remy's mouth hanging open. This was the absolute last thing he'd expected from them. People didn't generally react this nicely to even him just flirting with someone. Usually, he was the type of person that was warned away from family, not asked to continue! He snapped his jaw shut, knowing he must look like an idiot. He tried to find the words to say what he wanted. The usual glibness he had seemed to have vanished. "Aint doing nothing but just being his _ami_. He's…he's s' easy to talk to. Nice. _Il est beau, aussi_."

When Alex gave Remy a confused look, Scott elbowed him before saying "He said Spence is handsome."

"Oh." Alex paused, wrinkling his nose for a second. Then his features smoothed out and he grinned. "It's the Summers' genes. We're fine ass men."

Remy couldn't help but chuckle at that. Scott, on the other hand, shook his head and took hold of Alex's arm. "On that note, we're going back in before Alex's ego grows any bigger. Go to your session before you're late, Gambit." That said, Scott started to tug Alex back down the hall with him. Remy watched the two go, laughing softly at their bickering, and laughing even more when they went in the room and he heard the both of them instantly switch from picking on one another to picking on Spencer.

"Dem Summers men may be fine." Remy mumbled to himself as he started to walk away. "_Mais_ dey're all crazier dan a June bug in May." Still, he said it with a smile.

* * *

_Here's the next bit for you all. Next chapter, we'll touch base with the team and open up a little bit on the attack. Let Spencer get some of it out there._

_IntoTheWilds: I wanted to show more of his energy side because it's super easy to fall into the empathy part of things. Plus, right now he's really trying to close off his empathy after all that he felt during the attack. That was too much for him to deal with so he's pretty much avoiding his empathy at the moment. I have to agree with you that this kind of treatment that mutants in these stories get is sadly common in regards to so many things. I'm sorry you've had to see firsthand what idiots can do. I've been there too, sweetie. Both witnessing and receiving the foul treatment. I take those experiences and put it into the writing. It helps me :) _

_readaddict123: Thanks! Glad you like the bonding. I was a little worried that I wasn't showing enough of it, or that I was glossing over it too much. Good to know it works!_

_ 4: Oh man, I'm so glad that the common opinion about the electricity seems to be a good one. Glad you liked it :) Ah, see, you brought up Rogue, the one person that no one else has so far. I've avoided her thus far in the story, but she'll be interesting to see later on, I think :D And yes, even the safest place has it's weakness. While he feels safe, is he REALLY safe? Who knows. Guess you'll have to wait and see ;)_


	6. Chapter 6

_This may seem a little OOC later...just fair warning :)_

* * *

Spencer gave himself a couple days to relax and settle into his room. At least, that was the excuse he gave himself. He took three days in there, just relaxing, enjoying his visits, and easing his mind and body. In the few moments he was by himself, he drew little bits of electricity, starting some minor healing on himself. He worked on his left hand first, slowly knitting those bones back together, and on his ankle. The smaller healings were less painful than the large ones and were less stressful on his body. Now, after three days of these minor healings, he finally had the use of both hands once more and his ankle was whole again. He'd also started small healing inside of his knee. Nothing big yet but enough to start to speed that healing process along. He wanted to get it well enough that getting up with crutches would be a possibility. That was another reason he'd worked on his ankle and hands. He wanted his mobility back.

Leaving the Med Lab had definitely bolstered his spirits some. A tiny bit of the tension in his stomach had left him now that he was back in a regular room. But the nightmares remained. Each night they plagued him and each night, Scott was there, trying to soothe him back down. That brought up a wellspring of guilt that Spencer couldn't seem to shake. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right that Scott gave up his nights with Logan to come down and take care of him. That guilt ate at him, made worse by the memory of Warren's words down in the Med Lab. Damn the overgrown bird for saying that to him! Each day, Spencer swore he'd make it through the night fine; that he'd keep quiet if he woke up. And each night, he woke up to Scott holding him close, tears already pouring from his eyes, unable to let go of the only support he could rely on.

It was the morning after his third night in the room that Spencer finally forced himself to stop his mental 'hiding'. Scott was in the bathroom, brushing his teeth before getting ready to head out and start the day. Logan was supposed to come after a bit and sit with him, guaranteeing Spencer about an hour, at most, of privacy between the two. During that time, he was going to finally break down and do a little more healing on his leg. But first, there was something he wanted to do.

His good leg was curled up in front of him, his other one stretched out straight in its brace. Spencer sat forward, staring down at his hands in his lap, trying to make himself be much more courageous than he felt. "Hey, Scotty?" He called out. He was proud that his voice didn't shake at all, but the 'Scotty' would give him away as nervous.

The older man didn't step out of the bathroom, simply calling out a "Yeah?" that was obviously said around a mouthful of toothpaste.

Spencer bit his lip gently, finally able to do so now that the stitches there had dissolved. "Have, uh…have you, you know, heard anything from the, the team?" Wringing his fingers, he resolutely stared down, hating how cowardly he was feeling. "I was…I was wondering how they were doing. And, you know, if they'd…found anything." There, he got it out. Stuttered and stammered and sounded like a total fool, true, but it was out.

There was a pause between his question and Scott's answer. He heard the man rinse and spit in the sink before he appeared in the bathroom doorway. Scott leaned and propped his shoulder against the doorjamb. Everything about him screamed casual; even his emotions. Only because he knew him well did Spencer know that Scott was anything _but_ casual. "I talked to Hotch yesterday." The older man told him. "They're all doing all right. They miss you. Garcia said she misses her Dr. Cutie coming to visit her and boggle her with mindless trivia no one else in the world would know."

He paused, smirking as Spencer blushed. Then, when the young doctor said nothing, Scott kept going.

"They've had the guy in and out of interrogation, but he says not a word. Literally, nothing. He doesn't talk, doesn't do anything but sit there. Jean's been begging the Professor to let her go and try to help. He may not talk, but his mind would say plenty. But the Professor says that what she wants to do is a form of mind-rape and that isn't something he can condone."

Spencer closed his eyes and gave a soft shudder; no matter who it was, that wasn't something he would wish on anyone. Ever. Mind-rape was even more violating than physical rape. He forced his throat to work past the dryness that seemed to have suddenly built. "So they…they have nothing, then?"

"All they have is the guy's fingerprints. They ran him through the system and came up with Stanley Ray Curtis. He's a thirty four year old New York native. Prior arrests for assault three times. Did a ten year stint for one of them. There's also burglary, vandalism and petty larceny on his record."

"So he knows the score. He won't speak out against whoever he's with." Spencer said softly. He held the hem of his shirt and twirled it around his fingers. "He knows what'll happen if he does."

Scott made an agreeable sound and said "Most likely."

"If he's a native, there's a chance that the others are too." A little shudder ran down him. _I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this!_ "They all had the New York accent." And he could still hear it, haunting him every single night. It echoed around in his head now, brought to the forefront by his words. _'Fucking freak. We should just kill you now. You want that, you freak? Beg. Beg us to kill you.'_ Oh, God. Bile swirled around his stomach.

Scott watched the play of emotions on Spencer's face before the mask slipped down and he wanted nothing more than to go over there and hug him tightly until the images were gone. He wished he could chase away the pain that was so obviously lurking underneath the surface in Spencer's eyes. Even though both his siblings were adults, Scott never could get rid of the urge to take care of them; that feeling of responsibility. And there was something about Spencer…it was like Scott had told Remy. Spencer either inspired the urge to protect in people, or drew the crazies to him. One extreme or the other. There never seemed to be any middle ground.

Lost in his own thoughts, Spencer was unaware of the emotional turmoil in the other man. He was busy fighting his own emotions. Yet, he wasn't pushing the images away. No; he was trying to process them. To look at them and think like a profiler, not a terrified child. If the team had nothing and the person they had in custody was giving up nothing, then the only way to find out who the other three were and to catch them was inside of Spencer's mind.

"One of them…he was t-tall." Spencer fought to take the tremor out of his voice. Professional; he needed to sound professional. Calm. Collected. Maybe if he sounded like that, he might be able to convince himself he actually was. "I'd estimate around 6'6". He was built more toward the solid side, like Alex. Not quite as solid as Logan. Blond hair, blue eyes." A bitter little laugh slipped out, surprising even him. "What a stereotype. He was definitely the alpha male of the group. They all deferred to him. When he said stop, they stopped. When he spoke, they listened." And they had made sure he'd listened too. Spencer felt the hand in his hair, yanking his head up off the floor to force him to look at the man as he was ridiculed. Told how very, very wrong mutants were.

"One of the others was slender like me. He was about 5'9", I'd estimate. Blond hair, green eyes. Just a follower. An eager puppy doing what he was told, happily. The other, he had black hair, blue eyes." And this one had the tremble starting in Spencer's hands. This was the one that haunted him the most. A slightly hoarse edge crept into his words; words he worked so hard to try and keep analytical. "There was a scar on his left jawline, four inches long. There were scars all over his stomach, his chest, his back. He…he was the one to watch out for in the group." For a brief second Spencer closed his eyes to try and battle the nausea, but the image of the man's grinning face popped up and his eyes shot back open once more.

_Calm, calm._ He tried to tell himself. _Calm down. You can do this. You have to do this!_ But there was a smaller voice, growing louder by the minute, screaming at him. _No, no, no, no! I can't do it. Push it down, shove it away, don't think, don't feel, don't be._

Spencer didn't realize how tightly he was gripping the bottom of his shirt now. His whole body had gone tense. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't even hear the way his breathing started to hitch. He made himself keep talking. This had to be done so that they could catch the bastards. He had to think like a profiler, not like a victim. "He was a s-sexual sadist. Pain excited him. Most definitely he'll have rape and assault charges on his record. He's the type that doesn't have control. If not being watched by someone, he'd get too wrapped up in what he was doing and he'd be sloppy. He'd get caught, quick. He…he likes what he does. So much." Letting go of his shirt, Spencer wrapped his arms around his waist unconsciously. "They all did. They liked it and I, I could feel it, but I couldn't stop it. I couldn't do anything." The analytical slid away and the broken part of him reared its head. Spencer didn't even notice as he began to rock slightly, hands fisted in the sides of his shirt, arms tight around himself. "The drugs made my shields low enough that I could feel them. But I couldn't get enough energy to do anything. And they…they just kept hurting me. Over and over and over and I, dammit, I begged them to _stop_ and they _laughed_ at me. I don't want to think about this. I don't, I don't want to _feel_ this anymore."

The absolute agony in Spencer's words was enough for Scott to break pose. Enough was enough. "Spence," Scott's voice was urgent. He hurried over to the bed and climbed on it. His arms went around Spencer, ignoring the instinctive flinch, and he pulled him close, cradling him against his chest. "Shh, that's enough, honey. That's enough for now."

Spencer turned and buried his face in the curve of Scott's neck, trying so hard not to give in to the tears that were burning the backs of his eyes. "Do I have something that just draws these people to me? Is there something about me that just screams that I'm an easy target?" Drawing in a deep breath, he stared at Scott's shirt, focusing on the strength he always felt from his brother. "I'm so tired, Scotty." And the words sounded just that—tired. "I'm so tired of hurting and being hurt and just…all of it. I'm just so damn tired."

"I know, honey. I know." There was nothing else Scott could say. He cradled Spencer closer and wished there was something he could do to make this right. Wishing that he wasn't so damn helpless.

* * *

Life around the mansion had been so strangely quiet lately. While everyone was enjoying this break in missions, it left them worrying as well. The X-Men were not used to inactivity. Because of that, tensions were running just slightly higher than normal. Bored X-Men were dangerous X-Men. Remy knew that very well and he also knew that, when people felt like this, they tended to take it out on the easiest target. Remy had absolutely no intention of becoming that target. With that in mind, he'd escaped to the kitchen to indulge himself by making a cup of cocoa that he intended to drink on the back porch while having a smoke.

Well, that had been his plan. Unfortunately, Warren, Rogue and Bobby had come in when he was only halfway done making his drink, and Bobby was the only cheerful one of the bunch. He bounded right over to grab himself a soda from the cupboard, grinning at Remy and saying a cheerful "Morning, Remy!"

"_Bonjour_, _mon ami_." Remy said back with a little smile. He stirred the chocolate in his pot, keeping a careful eye on it as he melted it. No packet cocoa for him; either it was real hot chocolate or nothing at all.

Annoyance was coming off of Rogue in waves. She and Remy were currently on one of the 'off' phases of their on-and-off relationship. At least this time he actually _knew_ they weren't together at the moment. Lately, it was getting to where even _he _wasn't sure what they were at any given time. Dating? Not dating? He didn't always know. But this time, he did. They'd had a raging fight the previous morning about the amount of time he was spending with other people and not with her. Namely, Remy knew she was upset about the time he spent with Spencer.

He couldn't quite bring himself to care if that upset her. As he'd told her, she wasn't going to choose who he was friends with. There was something about Spencer that drew Remy to him. Spencer had only been here for two weeks now, but he and Remy seemed to have really hit it off. It was easy to talk to the man. And Remy was drawn to the pain that Spencer was in, emotionally. He ached to try and relieve that kind of pain; a kind he understood all too well. He knew what it felt like to be hurt simply for being different. He knew what it felt like to be forced to experience the emotions of the people that were hurting you. That was worse than the actual beating.

Then there was that conversation with Alex and Scott. The way they'd thanked him—and hadn't that been the biggest damn shock of his life!—Remy had a feeling that this wasn't the first time that Spencer had been hurt like this. He pieced together things he'd heard the three brothers say, adding it in with this newest conversation, and it all pointed to Spencer having definitely been hurt before. That only made Remy want to help him even more. He couldn't imagine someone wanting to hurt the man. Spencer was just so…so nice!

"Never mind him, Bobby. Apparently he's too good to talk to the lesser folks." Rogue's voice cut into Remy's musings and he drew his attention back to the three in the kitchen. Had Bobby been trying to talk to him? Remy wanted to flush when he realized that his thoughts of Spencer had consumed him so much that he'd apparently missed someone talking to him.

Automatically he turned and apologized. "_Je suis désolé_. Was y'all talking to Remy?"

"I was just asking what you were making." Bobby repeated himself. "It smells good."

"_Merci_. Remy's just making some homemade _chocolat chaud_. Hot chocolate." He translated himself when he saw Bobby's confusion. At the slightly eager look on the boy's face, Remy's smile softened a little and he mentally adjusted his measurements, already reaching for more chocolate. "Y' want a cup?"

"Yeah!" Bobby exclaimed. He took a seat at one of the bar stools, grinning widely. Despite their closeness in age, Remy couldn't help but think of Bobby as younger. Maybe they were close in years, but not in experience. There, Remy was like an old man in a younger man's body.

As Remy added more chocolate to his pot, he heard Warren say "I wouldn't trust anything that Gambit gave me, Bobby. You never know what he might have done to it."

"Let ol Gambit make a glass f' y', Ange. We'll see what gets put in it, den." Remy purred. He pushed down the hurt and let his face show a mask of amusement, one eyebrow quirking up over the top of his sunglasses.

Warren sneered at him. "I'd drink from a toilet before touching anything _you_ prepared."

"Thought y' was a bird, not a _chien_."

"What did you just call me?" There was a rustling sound as Warren shook out his wings. Remy kept stirring his pot with one hand, but his other casually slipped near his pocket where his cards were kept. However, the winged-man just stood and glared, choosing his mouth as a weapon instead of his body. "They never should have let you back here. At the least, they should have left you in the boathouse! How you got them to agree to allow you back in the house, I shudder to guess."

"Been awfully buddy-buddy with Scott." Rogue said jeeringly.

Her disgust cut straight through Remy just like a knife. It didn't show on the outside. He refused to let it show. "Scotty is _mon ami_, cher. Y' know dat."

"Logan would gut ya anyways." Rogue put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Has he figured out that you keep trying to get into his mate's pants?"

Remy's mouth dropped open. "_Quoi_? Aint tried nothing like dat with Scotty!"

"Yeah, sure thing, sugar. Just like ya aint been cozying up with his younger brother, either. One Summers as good as the next, huh? Whoever ya can get it from!"

That had Warren's lips curling up in a smug sort of grin. "How appropriate. The two resident whores, bonding together."

As he spoke, the kitchen door opened. The voice from the doorway drew all eyes over there. "Jealous, Warren?" Spencer asked casually. His crutches clacked on the ground as he made his way into the kitchen slowly. The brace on his leg was different than the one he'd been wearing lately; Remy guessed this one was made more for movement. It strapped from ankle to the top of his thigh with Velcro over the front of his leg in three strips on the top and three on the bottom to hold the brace shut. On either side of his knee were metal joints that were locked into place so the leg couldn't be bent.

Despite the situation, Remy found himself smiling at seeing Spencer up and about. His hands were just a little steadier as he took his now melted chocolate and set about making his cocoa. "_Bonjour_, cher! Good to see y' finally up and about, yeah."

"It's good to finally _be_ up and about." Spencer joked. He made his way toward the fridge. "It's nice to be able to get some movement, but I'd forgotten exactly how much of a pain crutches can be."

"_Oui, _dey can be. Never did like dem much, me."

Spencer was completely ignoring the others in the room in favor of looking for something to drink in the fridge and talking with Remy. His casual dismissal was annoying Warren more than anything else he could have done. That, of course, was why he was doing it. He snagged a bottle of juice from the fridge, setting it down on the counter before shutting the doors. He looked over his own sunglasses and winked at Remy. "There are just over 6.8 million community-resident Americans that use assistive devices to help them with mobility. About 6.1 million of them use mobility devices such as canes, crutches, and walkers. I high doubt a single one of them really _likes_ their devices." He replied to the man's last comment. Then he paused, cocking his head to the side. "Though, there is something known as abasiophilia. Abasiophilia is a psychosexual attraction to people with impaired mobility, like those who use orthopedic appliances such as leg braces, orthopedic casts, or wheelchairs. The term was first used by John Money in 1990 in a paper he wrote on paraphilia."

Chuckling at the random bit of knowledge, and how easily it flowed from the young genius, Remy poured his mixture into two mugs. He reached over and handed one to Bobby, who smiled at him in an almost apologetic manner. Remy smiled back to try and let him know not to worry about it.

Rogue was the first one to have enough of being ignored. "That's Scott's juice you've got." She said to Spencer in a cold voice. "He doesn't let anyone touch it. He gets it special from some store in town."

"Really?" Spencer quirked an eyebrow. Leaning against the counter, he propped his crutches up and opened the drink, foregoing a glass and taking a drink straight from the bottle. He looked down at the bottle with a little smirk. "You know, he really hates when people drink straight from the bottle, too." He added.

Remy hid his laugh behind his mug, taking a sip before starting to clean up his mess. In his peripheral vision he watched Warren shake his head at Spencer before saying "That man treats you like a King and you just use him for your amusement and can't even bother to be grateful about it."

"I'll reiterate my earlier statement. Jealous, Warren?" Spencer took another deliberate drink off the juice before putting the lid back on and putting it back in the fridge.

"Of what? You?" Was the incredulous reply. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Maybe not me, per se."

"What, you think I want to be _like_ you? You've got to be kidding me! Why the hell would I want to be like _you_?"

Just as Remy finished washing his dishes out, he saw Spencer grab his crutches, settling them under his armpits once more. He was smirking at Warren in a way that looked confident and amused—a look that Remy hadn't ever seen on Spencer's face—but it was only a _look_. Underneath it, Remy felt something else entirely. He felt the annoyance and disgust in the man, as well as enough self-loathing and hurt to have Remy wanting to wrap him up in a tight hug. Those emotions didn't color Spencer's reply at all. "Just calling it like I see it, Warren. We both know that jealousy has always been your problem, ever since you arrived at this school and realized that money didn't buy you a place of high standing here. But, oh, being a Summers? In your eyes, being a Summers was the ultimate. So you figured you'd bang Scott, but he wasn't interested in you."

Spencer had everyone's attention. All eyes were on him as he swung forward, putting himself right up by Warren. He didn't back down from the man as so many others did, but straightened up and smirked right in his face. Remy was gaping slightly at him. From what he'd seen and what he'd heard about Spencer, he never would've expected this kind of temper. He wouldn't have expected for him to stand up for himself like this. But something about Warren just seemed to set that temper off. For the first time, Remy was getting a glimpse at what it could be like when Spencer's temper took over and he did something that could be very dangerous—he profiled Warren.

"And that just drove you crazy, didn't it?" Spencer continued on in a low voice. "Not that you actually wanted him. Just that someone actually had the gall to not be interested in you when you wanted them to be. But, after a while, you settled in as his friend, semi-content with the close proximity to power. You insinuated yourself into his life and became the model best friend. You didn't bother trying with Alex when he showed up; you knew better. Alex is too strong, too confident. Just too much everything. He intimidates you whether you like to admit it or not. There's also the fact that he's the only straight Summers brother, so that would really dampen your plans. And as for me? Well," Pausing, Spencer smirked and Remy felt the pain flash inside the man. "We both know how that ended up, don't we?"

Warren's wings were quivering with his outrage. "You think you have it all figured out, do you?"

"It really wasn't that difficult." Spencer said dryly. "I could go on, even, but I'll save you the humiliation in front of this audience."

"And what about you in this whole mix? You think we haven't all figured out what you're about?"

"I'm sure you'll enlighten me shortly, no matter what I say, so continue on."

If anything, Spencer's dry tone seemed to provoke Warren further. This was the most furious Remy had seen the man with anyone but, well, with anyone but Remy. His wings kept quivering and his face was hard. Bobby had stopped drinking his cocoa to watch the two of them and even Rogue had stepped back, out of the line of fire, while still openly staring. Remy found that he couldn't move away from the sink. All he could do was watch.

Lips curling, Warren looked Spencer over from head to toe. "You really aren't that difficult. You're nothing special, Spencer. The street is full of whores like you. You're a nobody. That's exactly who you are. A nobody. Some pathetic little creature whose own father didn't even want him. You think you're big and bad because you have all those degrees and doctorates and joined the FBI? You think doing all that erases the street hustler you used to be? You seem to think that by adding doctor to your name, you'll be able to forget about the boy that sold himself on the street corners to make a quick buck. But you haven't changed. You're still the same damn person you were before. Worse, even."

"Warren…" Rogue spoke up in a voice gone soft. "Warren, enough."

Warren looked at her in surprise. "You'd defend him? He's nothing but a whore and a user."

"I am not a whore." There was a hard edge to Spencer's voice that hadn't been there before. His eyes were almost glowing slightly and his whole body seemed to have locked down tight. "And I sure as hell am not a user. You watch your mouth, Warren Worthington."

"Not a user?" A mocking laugh came from the other man. "Have you told anyone why you won't take the narcotics Hank prescribed for you? Or did you think people around here didn't know about your little love affair with Dilaudid?"

The glow in Spencer's eyes grew until they looked like they were crackling with energy. "Care to test how well your wings conduct electricity?"

"Are you threatening me?"

"Call me a whore one more time and you'll find out."

Almost in sync, Rogue and Remy hopped forward, placing themselves between the two. Remy put his hands up to Spencer while Rogue put her gloved hands on Warren's chest, backing him up. "That's enough, sugar." She drawled at the man. "Come on, clear out. That's enough. Let's go."

At the same time, Remy was making sure he stayed in front of Spencer, giving Rogue time to get Warren out of the room. "Let it go, cher. He aint worth dat kind of trouble. Don't y' let him get to y'."

It took a long second, but Spencer finally shuddered and drew his eyes away from the door where Warren had just left. "I know." Sighing, Spencer visibly gathered himself. Remy could feel the other man taking control of his emotions, even if by just a thread. Feeling how thin that control was had Remy wincing in sympathy. He put one hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Y' wanna step outside with me, cher? Was gonna drink m' _chocolat chaud_ and have m' morning smoke."

A corner of Spencer's mouth quirked in a brittle smile. "I'd absolutely love it."

Silently, the two made their way from the kitchen and out to the back porch. The sunshine was shining down, taking away some of the morning chill. Still, Remy led them to a sunny patch of the porch where there were long patio chairs. He didn't bother asking Spencer if he needed help getting into one. Something told him that pride would demand Spencer say no. So he gave the man no choice and, after setting his cup on the table between the chairs, Remy took Spencer's crutches for him and then offered an arm to help him get seated. Once Spencer was sitting, Remy backed off, letting the man adjust his own legs into the chair.

Remy sat in his own chair, stretching his legs out and leaning back. He lit a cigarette, taking the first drag and sighing. Lazily he blew smoke rings above him. Beside him, he felt Spencer's emotions as the man was trying to bring them all back under control. Remy had no problems being silent for as long as was needed. In a subtle support, he let his own calm fill him, not projecting it out but simply surrounding himself with it, knowing that Spencer would feel it and it would most likely help.

He was halfway through his cigarette when Spencer finally spoke. "How long do you give it before the whole mansion hears about that little interlude?" The genius said wryly.

Taking another drag, Remy looked over toward the trees, grateful he had his sunglasses on. "Bobby was in dere. So, an hour, mebbe?"

A soft snicker slid from Spencer. The silence fell around them again and it was nice; peaceful. There was no pressure for conversation or anything like that. It surprised Remy, how easily he sat here with Spencer. How easily they seemed to mesh together sometimes. He didn't feel like he always had to put a front on around him. He didn't have to be on his guard as he did with some, or putting on a mask as he did with others. Spencer didn't expect him to constantly talk or make him feel like he had to play a part. There was just something about the other man that let Remy feel like he could just be Remy around him, no one else. And that he would be accepted for who he was.

When Spencer spoke again, it didn't seem forced or strained, but almost right. He was lying back in his chair, one arm folded behind his head, the other stretched over his lap. With his sunglasses on, it was impossible to tell if his eyes were open or closed. Everything about him just seemed so relaxed. "When I was just a few days old, the Colonel adopted me out to mother's cousins, the Reids. My biological mom, she died while giving birth to me and, to this day, the Colonel can't look at me without hating me for it."

Where this was going, Rem wasn't entirely sure. But he said nothing. He had a feeling that this wasn't something that Spencer talked about, with anyone. He wasn't going to interrupt him. Not to mention, he definitely had Remy's interest peaked.

"I grew up thinking of Diana as Mom. That woman brought me into her home, her heart, and made me feel like I was really her son. Despite the fact that her cousin had died to give birth to me, she never resented me for it. Ever. But William…he had me call him Dad out loud, but in my mind he was always William. He hated me. I don't know if it's just because of who he is, or something inside of him, or something that the Colonel said to him, but William hates me. And, until he walked out on us when I was ten, he beat me almost every day so that I'd know how much he hated me."

It took everything Remy had not to start cursing out loud. He flicked and exploded his cigarette butt and then wrapped his hands around his mug to try and keep them from clenching into fists. And still he listened.

"I'm not telling you for sympathy or pity. I'm telling you so you'll understand the rest, and because pretty much everyone here knows that part anyways. For all I know, you've already heard it. From what I heard, Scott's temper was pretty impressive when he found out what was going on. But that wasn't until years afterwards .William, he left when I was ten. That's another thing that's known around here. He left me with my mother, who was sick and couldn't take care of us, though nobody knew it at the time."

Remy set his cup down and grabbed his pack of cigarettes. As he lit one, he felt a small hint of longing in Spencer and didn't hesitate to hold out the lit smoke. The man took it, a corner of his mouth curling. Remy didn't know just how much of a shock it was for Spencer to take that cigarette. He had no idea just what hell the kid usually gave a person for smoking, or that Spencer hadn't had a cigarette since he was seventeen.

Only when they were both smoking did Spencer continue to talk. "I told Scott that Mom was doing fine and we were okay and I made sure to not have him over to visit anymore. I always went to him. When Mom couldn't even remember to bathe anymore without thinking someone was going to drown her, I knew she couldn't work. I knew she wouldn't be able to get us money. I ended up making money the only way I could find. I tried odd jobs, but no one wants to hire an eleven year old."

Remy couldn't take it anymore. Putting his cigarette in his left hand, he reached his right one out to clasp Spencer's. "Y' don't gotta say no more, cher. Y' don't gotta do dis. Y' don't owe no one an explanation."

"I know." Surprisingly, Spencer smiled. He lightly squeezed Remy's hand. "But a part of me wants you to understand. I didn't do the things I did just for fun. Granted, it still wasn't right. But it was what I did to pay bills."

"Remy aint got no room to judge y', _mon ami_. Done some t'ings in m' life too dat I aint exactly proud of." Remy said the last bit softly. This time Spencer was squeezing his hand in support, giving Remy the strength to say "De empathy, de charm, it got away sometimes before Remy could control it and it just…after a while, y' figure dat it might as well be on y'r terms. Gets de money f' food, anyways. And when y'r starving, dat's de most important t'ing."

"That it is." Spencer agreed. He took another drag off his cigarette, his other hand still linked with Remy's. "If I'm going to do this, I might as well be totally honest. The rest of what Warren said…he was right."

Remy turned his head to look over at him. "_Quoi_?"

"The Dilaudid. I was addicted to Dilaudid." Spencer said the words as if they were nothing, but his hand gave a soft twitch. "I've been clean three years now. The team and I were on a case in Georgia back then and I was kidnapped by our Unsub. He held me for two days and drugged me during that time. When I got free, the habit stuck for a while. But I kicked it. And now, I expressly do not take narcotics."

The amount of information that poured from this man had Remy only able to lie there and stare. He felt like Spencer had opened up and let him see a part of his soul and it left Remy feeling slightly humbled. There was much more to this man than met the eye.

Spencer must have read the emotions coming from Remy. He turned, smiling in a soft sort of way. "Apparently I'm in a confession type of mood today. First with Scott and then here with you." He said lightly. "Now you know the stories everyone here knows, only with the details about me that no one else but Scott, Alex, and Logan here know."

"_Merci_ f' trusting me." It was all Remy could think of to say. Yet, it seemed enough. Spencer smiled and nodded and the two men turned their heads to stare off towards the trees ones more, smoking in silence.

After a moment, the corner of Remy's mouth quirked. "Want to know some t'ings about me dat no one else knows?" His little smile and the hint of humor in his words worked to start to lighten the mood.

"Absolutely." Spencer said. His lips were already starting to curve.

"If I aint careful, I snort when I laugh real hard at something." He drawled out. Slanting a look over at Spencer, he added. "Also, I got a degree in business and one in art history, and a master of fine arts degree in painting. Now y' know some t'ings bout me dat no one else here knows. Not even m' Stormy." The confessions were nowhere near as serious as Spencer's had been. But he'd said them mostly to show trust and to make the man smile.

Chuckling, Spencer flicked his ash. "_Merci_ for trusting me." He repeated Remy's earlier words.

Remy grinned and relaxed back in his chair. It was shaping up to be a fine morning. Lying in the sun, a cigarette in one hand, his other still tangled with Spencer's, Remy had never really felt happier or more content.

* * *

_And here is where I really start to earn that "Soap Opera" title LOL. Hope you liked this! Keep up the love, people. You're making me feel so wonderful!_

_IntoTheWilds: Using writing to vent is one of the greatest things. I have a few fics on my computer that haven't seen the light of day that are just...dark. They help me feel better. I totally understand where you're coming from there :) As for the rest-you can have Warren, once Spencer's done with him. He's standing up for himself! Yay him! You made me laugh out loud when you said you almost ate your laptop, though. I can honestly say my writing has never inspired someone to eat their laptop before. :D Go me!_

_DeputyDog: I'm glad Spencer's in his room, too. Makes it easier for him to start to associate with others now :)_

_ 4: Aw, glad you thought it was lovely. I've always thought that 'lovely' is a real sweet compliment. Yeah, they haven't known one another long, and they are comfortable. I hope that seems believable to everyone! :/ The story with Warren I promise will come out later, so don't worry about that! Just, not right away. :D_

_readaddict123: Glad to make you laugh! That's a great compliment. You know, I kind of want to add in a scene somewhere with them playing cards, just for fun. Or, I was thinking about finding a spot in the story and adding in a 'poker night' scene. Spencer, Remy, the brothers, Logan, maybe some others. It would show Spencer's interactions with others as well as have some great potential for fun. I just worry when I get to writing group scenes because I worry I don't do a good job lol_

_Hissy: HEY! Nice to see you :) Don't worry about your lack of sign in, you always put a signature lol. Glad to see you here and glad you're liking the story so far! Nice to know I hooked you in ;) I hope you continue to enjoy it. And I really like the idea of Cajun therapy there, lol. Spencer will get some. But, I want some too! Sigh, if only I could pull Remy out for myself._

_Andromeda Hayes: Yay for smiles and giggles! I giggled as I proofread through it. This chapter wasn't anywhere near as fun. It was more, emotional. Hope you liked it!_


	7. Chapter 7

As the days went by, Spencer was surprised to discover that word of their fight hadn't leaked around the mansion at all. For that first day, he'd closely watched the others, waiting for some sign that Warren's words had been discovered. He waited for the recriminations, the slurs, anything at all. But there was nothing. It didn't surprise him that Warren didn't go tattling on himself. Hell, it had surprised him that the man had said what he'd said in front of witnesses! Usually Warren kept his most spiteful commentary to when he was sure there was no one else around but Spencer out of fear that it would get back to Scott and get him in trouble.

Yet, a week after the incident, still nothing had come up about it and Spencer finally put it out of his mind. There were other, more important things to dwell on. Things that took up much more of his thoughts than a stupid fight with Warren.

He had done as he'd promised Scott and given his psychologist back home a call. After a brief discussion of circumstances, she agreed to weekly phone sessions until he was well enough to travel to see her. He'd had his first session with her and, even though it had taken him an hour alone in his room to finally calm down from it, he could admit that it had done him some good. Inside, he was slowly starting to feel like maybe he was becoming a little more human once more. The shield he put up around others during the day was starting to become less fake; he was starting to feel happier. Part of that probably had to do with his ability to move around the mansion now. Crutches meant that he wasn't confined to his bed all day and night anymore. He could get up to use the restroom, to wash up in the bathroom—even if his stitches meant he couldn't take a shower—to go down and eat with other people. He was a part of real life once more. That did wonders for his morale.

Another part of it was definitely his brothers. Having them there gave him the strength he needed to face what was inside himself and to face the world. He knew that, no matter what, they were there for him. It didn't escape his attention that Alex had stayed around this whole time. Three weeks now! And he was showing no signs of leaving yet. He was even training with the team and going out with them on missions! Spencer hadn't been able to make himself bring it up yet for fear that Alex might actually leave. Selfish as it was, he didn't want the man gone. He liked having him around. He liked being here with the both of them. Alex was like a typical older brother, looking out for Spencer but at the same time not afraid to bicker with him, despite others who seemed to think Spencer was too fragile to bicker with. Alex didn't hold back, just treating Spencer the same as he always had.

Scott…well, Scott was Scott. In his quiet, steady way, he was the pillar for Spencer. Supportive and strong, he was there when Spencer needed him and he stepped back to let Spencer take steps on his own when the young man obviously needed to. He also treated Spencer the same, with just a small increase in his protectiveness. That didn't surprise Spencer; nor did it bother him. That was just Scott. The day Scott stopped being protective was the day Spencer would worry about him. He had always been like a dad to Spencer, almost more so than a brother. He looked out for him in ways no one else did. Sometimes a little too much, but Spencer knew how to get him to back off a little. It helped to have Logan on his side, too. The two of them had gained up on Scott and forced him to take a couple nights away from Spencer and in his own room with Logan to recharge his batteries and spend time with his mate. That made for long nights for Spencer, who still had nightmares, but he wasn't going to make Scott suffer just because he was having bad dreams.

Last night when he'd woken, however, Scott had been there. He'd quieted down any protests Spencer might have given and just held him, rocking him in his arms until Spencer was calm and he'd drifted back off to sleep. He was still there when Spencer woke in the morning.

The sight of Scott stretched out in the bed beside him had Spencer shaking his head. Big brother Scott, always to the rescue. At least he'd taken a few days to stay with Logan. It had his face looking relaxed once more and his emotions were calmer; steadier.

Spencer shifted out of the bed as silently as possible. His hand reached out for the crutches automatically before realizing that today was his first day without them. Today, he would graduate to the cane. Yesterday he had done a large healing session in the danger room. After he was done, Hank had done another exam and Spencer's body was physically declared 'healed'. That had him smiling. Who would have thought? Just three weeks after being beaten so badly he had almost died, he had made a full recovery. At least, insofar as he was ever going to recover.

The sessions had left Spencer so tired and lacking in energy that Alex had pretty much carried him to his room. He'd been asleep before he hit the pillow. Now, though, he was free to take a moment to look at himself and realize just how much about his body was going to be different. It had been one thing to know in his mind that he was going to be changed by this; it was another thing entirely to finally be faced with it.

His hand trembled only for a second before he managed to get it under control once more. He gripped his cane tightly—a cane that had been brought up from the lab until he could buy his own—and he leveraged himself up out of the bed carefully so as not to wake Scott. The first step he took was only slightly wobbly. His leg didn't have the strength or the stability it had had before. The damage that had been done to his muscles had required that part of the muscle actually be cut out. That was why he was going to be stuck with a limp. It was also why he would be using a cane for the rest of his life. As he made his way slowly to the bathroom, readjusting to using the damn cane, he almost shook his head. Alex had already started calling him 'Dr. House'.

Once inside his bathroom, Spencer shut the door quietly. He wanted to have utter privacy for this. Not because he was going to take a shower—long ago he'd gotten over his embarrassment at the way Scott or Alex would simply walk in when he was in the shower—but because this was the first time he was going to strip down and fully look at his body. He knew he had to. He was finally declared healed; he needed to look at himself and see the damage to finally accept it. That had been the advice his psychologist had given him on the phone yesterday. His homework, she'd called it.

Spencer was grateful that he had previous experience using a cane from when he'd been shot in the knee at work. It made it easier for him to move. His body was slowly remembering what was necessary. The only difference was, this time around there wasn't going to be any eventual improvement. No surgery, electrical healing, or alien equipment was going to repair the muscle loss. He was going to have to live with that for the rest of his life.

A shudder ran down Spencer's body. He deliberately lifted his cane and hooked it over the towel rack so that it was out of his way. Then, balancing mostly on his good leg, he took a step toward the sink. The pain that came with walking without his cane stunned him. He made one step just fine and almost made another before his leg tried to crumple. Luckily, he'd been prepared. His hands shot out and braced on the sink, gripping tightly and keeping him from melting to the ground. When he was sure he had his balance, he brought one hand down to rub at his thigh through his pants. The muscles were protesting to his testing movements, but he couldn't help but hope that maybe a little exercise would help him improve.

With slow hands he pulled his shirt off. Setting it on the counter top, he lifted his head and looked at his reflection.

There were new scars on his stomach from the surgery to remove his appendix. They weren't bad; it had been a laparoscopic surgery, which had helped make the healing process easier. There was a scar on his left bicep that was from a cut that hadn't been deep, but had needed butterfly tape to help it heal. All in all, his upper half wasn't really that different. He wasn't worried about the small scars on his back. Those were nothing, really, and would blend in with the others already there. The scarring around his wrists was minimal, but it made him shiver to see. There was no doubt that they were there. The sight of it reminded him of the feel of the cuffs around his wrists, cold metal pressing against him, tearing at his skin. Flexing his hands, he distracted himself from those scars, thinking instead how nicely the breaks in his hands had healed. There wasn't even any residual ache or stiffness like he'd feared. Another bonus to think about was that he hadn't suffered any hearing loss from the blow to the head like the doctors had worried about.

Now came the difficult part. Spencer closed his eyes as he pushed his pajama pants and boxers off his hips so that they pooled around his feet on the floor. Then, bracing a hand on the wall and almost hopping, he went back a step to better look in the mirror. He could see the scar on his right leg from the stitches he'd had there. Really, that wasn't that bad. The stitching had been well done and hadn't scarred too much. With time, it would most likely fade and barely be noticeable. It was his left leg that had all the damage.

Spencer was used to scars. He could list each and every scar on his body and where they all came from. He was used to the mental ache that could flare when he let himself think about them. Very rarely did it happen anymore. But this…this was more than anything he'd expected to deal with. Inches above his knee started a network scars. The area was roughly the size of his hand and the scars were angry looking, with a slight spider webby look in places. He stared down at it, making a small, strangled sound. It was on the outer half of his thigh, wrapping from the front and over the side, dipping and twisting, leaving him with a slightly indented look in spots and a raised scar look in others.

Holy _shit_. He had to turn himself away from the mirror so that he wouldn't have to see it anymore. He didn't want to look at himself. Didn't want to see what had been made of him. There was a growing ache in his heart. For a moment he moved on autopilot, grabbing his cane and limping to the tub to turn on the shower and get the water the right temperature. The shower that he had so been looking forward to had lost its excitement. When it turned on, he stepped carefully inside, using the bar on the wall to hold on to so that he wouldn't fall. Even so, it was a close thing. He was going to have to practice that.

Spencer stood under the spray of the shower and tried to calm himself back down. Why had seeing the scar hit him so hard? He'd known it was under there! He'd known the damage was bad, even if he hadn't looked at it until now. He had _known_! So why did this hurt so much? Why did it leave him feeling like someone had punched him straight in the gut? All of his air felt gone, he was lightheaded, and nausea was churning in him. Didn't he already carry enough scars? What the hell had he done to deserve this? Why had fate decided to make him even more of a freak than he already was?

He braced his hands against the shower wall, bowing his head at the water ran over him, his hair creating a wet curtain between him and the world. He pulled in a few ragged breaths. It wasn't right! It wasn't fair! He wanted to slam his fists into the tiles. To rant and rave and demand that someone tell him _why_. On a shuddered breath, Spencer tipped his head up, letting the water hit him in the face, letting it wash away the tears he couldn't keep in.

A sound at the bathroom door had him dropping his face, one hand coming to wipe at it before he realized that it wouldn't matter, he was in a _shower_. It was expected that his face would be wet.

"Hey, Sherlock, I've got to head out." Scott's voice called in to him. "The Professor called the team to his office. There's a chance we'll be in there for a while, just in case you need me."

Spencer worked to make sure his voice sounded as normal as possible. "I'm sure I'll be perfectly fine, Scott. I have been capable of entertaining myself for quite a few years, now."

"Smart ass. Just stay out of trouble, okay? And don't push yourself too hard, or I'll let Alex kick your ass."

"How utterly terrifying." Spencer said drolly. "Oh no. Whatever shall I do?"

The sarcastic words were enough to make Scott start laughing. "I think it's a good thing I'm going to be busy. You seem in a mood this morning."

Grabbing his shampoo, Spencer smiled to himself, letting Scott's good humor chase away that ache inside. It made his smile a little more genuine. "Don't worry. I'll save some just for you, Boom-boom." He knew the nickname would get to Scott—it always did. Spencer had first jokingly called Scott that when they were littler and Scott had first demonstrated his powers to Spencer. It had been a running joke between them since then.

A bar of soap came sailing over the shower curtain and knocked Spencer right on the top of his head. Even as he was cursing, Scott was laughing. "See you later, kiddo!" he called out before shutting the bathroom door. Spencer found himself laughing lightly. He kept the good feeling in him as he finished up his shower, finally feeling really clean for the first time in weeks. It was heavenly. He pushed aside the heartache that still tried to get to him, telling himself that there was no point in letting himself angst over it right at the moment. That would do him no good. All he could do was move forward and adjust to what life had handed him.

Eventually he got out of the relaxing shower and bundled himself out to his room, a towel tied around his waist. He went to the dresser where he had a few things that Scott usually kept here at the mansion for him for emergency purposes. After grabbing change of clothes, he brought them over to the bed and sat down to dress himself. Absently, he thought yet again that he needed to get into town and pick himself up some things. Clothes, toiletries, and other such items. He couldn't keep living off the small amount of things he had.

Once he was dressed, he stood back up, gripping his cane in his right hand, opposite his bad leg. Starting across the room, his attention was caught by something on the dresser. His cell phone. Spencer stood in the middle of his room for a long moment, staring over at it. Abruptly he strode forward, picking it up and flipping it open. Before he could change his mind, he dialed the first number on his list and what would most likely be the easiest call to make.

He went back to the bed while the phone was ringing in his ear. Just as he sat against the pillows and settled in, the person on the other end answered. The first thing he got was a loud squeal in his ear that made him pull the phone away and grin. It was followed by "_Oh my God, Reid! It is about time you called me, sugar plum! Oh, oh! How are you? I've missed you so much! Quick, tell me a useless random fact before I go insane_!"

Laughing out loud, he told her "The New York Mets lost 120 games in their inaugural season."

"_Oh thank…wait, really? Wow_." Penelope paused for a second and he could practically _hear_ her shrug before she said "_Okay, next question. What is the Pythagorean Theorem? Quickly_!"

"The Pythagorean Theorem is a relation in Euclidean geometry among the three sides of a right triangle. In terms of areas, it states: In any right triangle, the area of the square whose side is the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the areas of the squares whose sides are the two legs. The theorem can be written as an equation relating the lengths of the sides a, b and c, often called the Pythagorean equation where c represents the length of the hypotenuse, and a and b represent the lengths of the other two sides. It was named after the Greek mathematician Pythagoras, who by tradition is credited with its discovery and proof. But it's often argued that knowledge of the theorem predates him. There is evidence that Babylonian mathematicians understood the formula, although there is little surviving evidence that they used it in a mathematical framework."

Penelope sighed loudly in his ear, the sound distinctly happy. "_That's better_." She said. He could tell she was smiling. "_I've missed hearing things I don't understand. Okay, I'm better now. How are you, my handsome doctor_?"

It was absolutely impossible to resist Penelope. There was no way to talk to her and be depressed about really anything. It was also almost difficult to lie to her. Looking over to the window, Spencer gave his own sigh, changing the instinctive 'I'm fine' that had been about to come out. "I'm getting better. It…it's slow." He knew she'd understand that he didn't mean physically. For not being a profiler, Penelope was very talented at reading people. Especially people she cared about.

"_You'll heal at your own pace, sweetie pie. Don't try rushing it. It's only been three weeks since this happened, so don't be beating yourself up if you're not as happy-go-lucky as you think you should be. You've got every right to be mad, and sad, and to rage against the world a little bit. You don't have to be a big, bad FBI profiler and tough it all out_."

"I know. I just…I have a hard time sometimes letting myself seem any weaker around Scott and Alex. They've seen me at my lowest points, Garcia. I feel like I'm taking advantage of them. Like they always have to be the strength for me." Never before had he really admitted those words out loud to anyone.

"_Family is always the place we're the safest to break, but it seems like the one place we want to act the strongest_." She said wisely. "_What about friends? Do you have friends there to turn to sometimes? I mean, you can always call us and you better remember that, genius boy. But sometimes it's good to have someone who is right there with you_."

Almost instantly Remy came to mind. Spencer smiled a little as he thought of that day on the lawn chairs when he'd opened up and told the Cajun so much about himself. He'd been surprised at how easy it had been to open up to him. And Remy hadn't judged him for anything that he'd said, either. The man had listened and given him sympathy and support, but no pity and no judgment. Instead, he'd held Spencer's hand and they'd shared a sort of peace together. The topic hadn't come up against since then, but Spencer felt the subtle shift in their friendship. He found himself looking more and more forward to Remy's company.

"_Oh my God_." Penelope's squeal drew Spencer's attention back to the phone and reminded him that he hadn't answered her question. Apparently, he didn't have to. His silence had spoken enough. "_You totally do! More than a friend. Who is he? Tell me all about him, Reid. Don't skimp on details, either. Is he hot? What's he like? Have you kissed him_?"

Only Penelope would get away with asking these kinds of questions and actually getting Spencer to respond to them. He bit his lip and found that, surprisingly, he _wanted_ to tell her about Remy. He needed someone outside the house to talk about this to. "Actually, well, he's a friend right now, but I…I don't know. We haven't kissed." The idea had him both smiling and blushing. "His name is Remy. He's, well, he's really nice. Easy to talk to. And he makes me laugh."

"_Laughter is good! So, what's he look like? Or, better yet, what's his last name? I'll look him up_."

"You will not run him, Garcia!" He scolded instantly. "Don't you dare!"

"_Then you better start telling me what he looks like. Paint me a picture, Reid_."

With a roll of his eyes and a slight flush of embarrassment, Spencer first used his powers to check and make sure no one was nearby. Then he settled back against the pillows and set about trying to describe Remy to her. "He's about two inches taller than I am. His hair is longer like mine, but he usually keeps it pulled back. Cinnamon, I think is the color you'd label it. And he has the most beautiful eyes. Red iris, black sclera, they just kind of catch your attention and you can't help but look at them."

She made a happy little sound in his ear. "_Keep going, honey_!"

"He's long and lean, but not like me. Where I'm mostly just scrawny, he's got definite muscle to him, just packed in tightly. I feel awkward next to him sometimes because the man is so graceful. I don't think I've ever really seen him stumble or fall or anything like that. He just moves, fluidly. You can't help but watch and appreciate."

"_What about his buns? Does he have a top notch tushie_?"

Spencer dropped his head back against the pillows, his cheeks bright red. "Garcia!"

She laughed in his ear. "_Don't give me none of that, handsome! Just answer the question. Does he_?"

After a pause, Spencer blushed even more, but he said "Yes."

"_Oh, man. Awesome. Tell me more_!"

"He has a Cajun accent thicker than even Will's." Spencer said with a grin. He knew how much Penelope loved listening to Will talk. "And he speaks in a mix between English and Cajun-French and some regular French thrown in. He's a happy person with a ready smile and an easy laugh. You can sit down to talk with him and find yourself so lost in conversation that an hour can go by and you'd barely even notice. He's smart, even if he tries to hide it from people. And he's an empath, too, so he understands what it's like for me."

"_Ok. So, you haven't kissed him…why_?" She teased him. "_Honey, he sounds perfect! _I'm_ drooling over the idea of meeting this hunky little Cajun of yours. Just walk up, get a nice handful of that delectable derriere and plant one on him, baby_!"

Embarrassment and humor both had Spencer laughing hysterically. "Garcia! I can't do that!"

"_And why not? Sounds like a good plan to me_!"

"I can't believe you'd think I would do that!"

"_Oh, come on…dang it_." She cut herself off with a grumble. "_I gotta go, sweetness. My hot stuff is calling and they're on a case_."

Spencer instantly straightened up. "Tell everyone I said hi and that…that I'll call them soon."

"_Take care, sweetie. We miss you_!"

"I miss you guys too." He said.

After he'd hung up the phone, he stared at it for a minute, a little half smile on his face. Then, with a shake of his head and chuckle for his insane friend, he put his phone in his pocket and picked up his cane before setting out from the room in a much better mood than he'd woken up in.

* * *

Apparently there the Fates had decided that Spencer's mood was far too good. He was in the middle of a game of cards with Logan after lunch when the call came in to his cell phone that he'd actually been waiting for. It was time for him to give his official statement. They'd all known that this was coming and they'd planned accordingly for it. Because he'd been seen at a local hospital, his injuries were documented already and they would've been entered into evidence, which was a good thing. Unfortunately, it meant that Spencer had to look like he still had most of those injuries, even though his body had healed them.

It wouldn't be a shock to have his cuts and bruises be healed already. But his hands and his knee, as well as his stomach, would still be considered injured. There was definitely no way that he'd be up and about with a cane. In fact, he'd still be trapped in a wheelchair if he'd been healing normally. There would be no way he'd be able to bear the weight on his injured hands necessary to use crutches. So, as much as Spencer hated it, and as much as he hated to perpetuate a lie, he made himself do what he knew he had to. He let Hank wrap his hands and fingers in gauze and put the braces back on each hand and he once more donned the enormous leg brace over top of his pants.

At Scott's insistence, the interview was going to happen here at the school. Spencer tried to talk him out of it but he was adamant, and the Professor was on his side. The two ganged up on Spencer as they sat discussing it in Scott's office. "It's logical, Sherlock." Scott insisted. He leaned back against the edge of the desk, his legs crossed at his ankles. "If you're still that injured and we have a private doctor that stays here with you, it's logical that we'd have them come out here to take your statement. Even Hank said it's what he'd recommend if you were still at the stage of healing you're supposed to."

Charles took up the conversation next, before Spencer could get a word in. "The interview can happen here, in Scott's office. They'll simply come in here and speak with you and then leave. There will be no risk involved. It's smarter and safer this way, Dr. Reid. Until we're sure on what they know, it's safer to keep you where we can protect you. If there's a chance that they've discovered that this was done because you're a mutant, the last thing we need is for you to be alone inside of an FBI field office."

So, outnumbered, Spencer gave in and agreed to have it here. He understood their reasoning and even agreed with it. However, he'd had an important reason for not wanting to do this here. It was going to be one of the hardest things he'd ever done, to give his statement for this. If he was in the field office then he would've been able to be alone while it happened. Here, there was a good chance that Scott or Alex would try to be in the room, or that someone might be able to listen in, or that any of the telepaths in the house would pick up on something. Here, it wasn't anywhere near as private. And it would be exceptionally hard for him to take care of one important matter with his brothers looking on. He wasn't quite ready to tell them about the little folder he'd prepared, or the documents inside of it.

But Spencer sucked it up and just nodded his agreement. He'd already become a hell of an imposition on his brothers and this household. He wasn't going to create any more trouble than was necessary.

When it came time for the interview, Spencer was set up in the wheelchair down in Scott's office, waiting impatiently. All he wanted was for this to be over. He just wanted this whole thing done. _But it won't be done, not even after this. There's still three more out there._ That thought made Spencer shiver.

"You okay?" Alex murmured.

He must've noticed Spencer's shiver. The young genius pushed his emotions back and summoned up the best smile he could. "I'm fine, Alex."

"You know, you don't have to do this yet." It wasn't the first time Alex had said this. He hated the whole plan more than Spencer did, though not for the same reasons. He knew it was upsetting Spencer and he felt it was way too soon for anyone to be asking him probing questions. "We can still stop it, pidge. I can tell them to get out of here. You don't have to do this if you're not ready for it."

Spencer's smile was just a little more honest. It wasn't often that Alex's softer side showed like this. He took advantage of the moment and just absorbed the good feelings. "I'll be fine, Alex. Really."

There was no more time to debate it. A rap at the door was all their warning before Scott poked his head in. He'd been waiting out in the front room for the arrival of the agent that was coming. To Spencer's surprise, Scott was actually smiling. "Hey, Sherlock. The agent's here to question you. You ready?"

Curious about what was going on, Spencer furrowed his brows, but he nodded. The door was pushed open and Spencer found a smile of his own. Now he understood why Scott was grinning the way he was. There on the other side of the door stood Derek Morgan and Emily Prentiss. He felt himself light up at the sight of his friends. "Morgan! Emily!"

"Hey there, pretty boy." Derek grinned broadly at him. He walked right in and straight to Spencer. When he bent down to hug him, he had to have felt Spencer's instinctive flinch, but he said nothing about it. He just gave Spencer a quick squeeze and then moved back so that Emily could do the same. She hugged him tightly and pressed her cheek against his for just a moment. Then she straightened up and smiled down at him. "Hey, Reid. You're looking better."

"Thanks." Spencer looked around them to the door and then back at them. "Is there anyone else with you guys?"

"Nope, kid. Just us." Derek reassured him. "Hotch worked it out so we could do this. He figured it'd be easier for you to talk to us than a stranger."

That was debatable. Still, it was worth it if it meant he got to see his friends. His happiness grew when he realized it meant something else too. Spencer lifted his hands and held them out to Alex. "Help get these off, would you? If it's just them, I'm not going through keeping all of this on."

The two agents watched as Scott and Alex helped Spencer to get off all the mock bandages and braces. It took a few minutes but Spencer eventually stood in front of the two, his cane held tightly in his hand. The two were both looking at him with amazement. "Damn." Derek breathed out. He looked Spencer over from head to toe. "It's one thing to hear it. It's something else to see it. You really have healed up good, Reid. Is it that thing you learned with your electricity?"

"Yes. I've been working through things little by little. Hank's declared me as healed as I'm going to get. Now, it's simply a matter of getting back into shape and working out the muscles that have gone lax during my convalescence."

"Hey Sherlock." Scott's call interrupted their conversation. He waited until they were looking at him before he said "Alex and I are going to go ahead and bail out of here. There are some things we can get done. Go ahead and feel free to use my office as long as you need. I'll find you later on for dinner, okay?"

Appreciation filled Spencer. He gave Scott a grateful look. "Thanks, Scotty."

The two men cleared out, shutting the door behind them. Spencer turned back to his friends and gestured towards the couch and chairs. "Go ahead and have a seat, guys. Get comfortable. Scotty's office is one of the most private and secure here. We're as private as can be." He followed his own advice and settled down onto the couch. He got himself comfortable, propping his legs up on the coffee table since Scott wasn't here to lecture him for it, and he happily looked from one person to the other. "So, someone start talking. I want to hear everything that's been going on. How is everyone? Has anything important happened lately?"

As the two started to regale him with takes from home, filling the room with their warm voices and laughter, Spencer felt a part of him ease a little. He opened up his shields just the tiniest bit and soaked in the warm emotions coming off of them. In a bit, he would think of what he was going to have to do. For now he just let himself enjoy their presence for as long as it was going to last.


	8. Chapter 8

_Warning, sappy, angsty moments ahead. :P Hopefully this was well done. This whole chapter was an extra addition to the original story_

* * *

The trio spent a good half hour simply catching up with each other. Spencer kept his friends talking, drawing more and more stories out of them. It felt good to listen to things from back home. It felt _normal_. After all the chaos lately, just sitting and listening to Emily tease Derek about his latest dating fiasco, or to here Derek talk about something he and his 'baby girl' did on a case, it all felt wonderful to Spencer. Like everything was good and normal again. Well, so long as he didn't focus on the details. Like the fact that they were sitting in an office that was quite a bit fancier than their usual gossip area, which would've been the bullpen or a bar. Or the tension that ran quietly underneath the surface.

Eventually, Derek was the one to bring them to the one thing that Spencer didn't want to do. He shifted around in his chair and the easy going, relaxed expression on his face faded away to one that had Spencer sighing. The young genius curled his hands into the hem of his shirt. "We've got to start this, don't we?"

Derek grimaced briefly before nodding. "I hate having to do this, Reid, but we're only cleared to be up here for the afternoon. We've got a flight back out in a few hours."

"Meaning that we need to get to work." He took a deep, steadying breath. _You can do this. You can do this. Just get this done and then you can forget about it._ "How do you want to do this? I gave my initial statement at the hospital. Is this just a more in depth interview, or am I to just give a full accounting of events?"

"Whatever's easiest for you, Reid." Emily said. "We can do this as an interview, or you can just talk. Whichever one is easier."

Just talking, definitely. It was always easier for him to just talk. Talking had always been something easy for him to do. He could just open his mouth and let it all come out in one long-winded ramble. Most people probably didn't realize that his rambles were a good way for him to distance himself from what he was saying. The odd fact or statistic thrown in sometimes helped him to keep a scientific distance from the subject matter. Where it concerned him personally, it could come into play even more. There were countless tricks that Spencer had learned to use to distance himself from things in his life. Sometimes they were the only things that saved his sanity.

He looked up from his lap and focused on his friends. For the first time, he let himself say something out loud that he'd been forcing himself not to think of. "The Bureau already knows, don't they? About me being a mutant."

Derek shook his head. "No, kid." Before Spencer could relax, he added "But we don't know how long that's going to last. If this guy ever decides to talk, or when we get the other guys, it's probably going to come out. If not right away, then at the trial. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Of course it wasn't, not really, but he'd never say that. "I knew that. I just, I had to ask." He sighed and brought his hand up to run through his hair in a nervous gesture his two friends recognized. They were quiet for a few minutes as Spencer took the time to gather himself. While he did, Emily pulled out the tape recorder and set it on the table between them, preparing them for the interview. The familiar procedure actually helped Spencer to settle his nerves a little. Once the tape was set up and on and the pertinent information had been given, Emily and Derek settled in and looked to him. "In your own words, can you walk us through what happened that day?"

It was now or never. Memories swirled to the surface and Spencer made himself let them come. He didn't fight them back. As they took him back, took him to the one place he'd been avoiding lately, his soft voice started to fill the room. "It was June twenty third, at around seven twenty two PM. We were on a case in New York. I went down to the coffee shop just around the corner from the hotel for a coffee run for the team. I bought six coffees and paid for them. Once I had my order, I went back outside and was heading back to the hotel. As I passed the alley next to the coffee shop, I heard a movement and then something hard struck me in the back of the head." The echo of old pain went through his head. Without realizing it, he brought a hand up to rub back there.

"When I came to, I found myself lying on something cold and hard. It took me a moment to realize that I was lying on the ground. A floor in some place. When I tried to move, I discovered that my wrists had been cuffed tightly behind my back. My movement must've alerted the Unsubs that I was awake because there was suddenly a hand in my hair, yanking me upright." Spencer's eyes slipped closed as the memories rushed forward. "Everything felt sort of fuzzy around the edges, like I wasn't all the way awake yet. I didn't realize at first that they'd drugged me. But I couldn't quite make myself move. The person holding my hair made me kneel and he bent my head back so I had to look up. That was when I saw the other three people in the room. They were all just standing there, staring at me. The Unsub in the center was about 6'6", with blond hair and blue eyes. He was muscular, definitely athletic. He had tattoo on his left arm of an American flag and an eagle together. To his left was another blond, with green eyes, about 5'9" and most definitely a submissive in the pack dynamic. He eagerly did anything he was told. The one on the right had black hair, blue eyes, and was around 6'. He had a four inch scar on his left jawline. On his stomach, chest and back he carried multiple scars that looked to be from knife wounds and the occasional burn, most likely from a cigar, judging by their size."

The profiling was easy for him. That added an extra little cushion, pushing everything back that much more. It let him create a distance. _Treat it like a case. Maybe then, I can say it. Maybe then it won't rip me apart_. He cleared his throat and tried to sound as professional as possible. He tried to treat this just like any other case, even though his insides were screaming that it wasn't.

"The one holding me, the one you have in custody already, kept a grip in my hair so that I was forced to look at the leader of the pack. The man, he said…" Spencer's voice cracked slightly and he cut himself off quickly, embarrassment leaking in.

"Do you need a minute?" Derek offered.

Spencer shook his head. He didn't want to have to stop. He needed to get this out. "No. I can do this." He _would_ do this. Not for himself, but for other people. Because if he didn't speak up and stop these bastards, then they could go out and do this to someone else, ruin someone else's life. Spencer couldn't just sit back and let that happen. So he made himself draw in a breath and try to slow down his racing heart before he started to lose control. "He said 'Do you know why you're here, boy?' When I told him no, he said 'Your kind makes me sick. We know what you are. You think you can hide it from us, but you can't. You mutants think you're so much better than us because you've got special powers. Well, who's better now, huh?' Then he, he hit me in the face and they…they started to beat me."

The two agents looking on could easily see Spencer's agitation grow. His good leg was bouncing and his hands were clenched together in his lap. His eyes had taken on a distant quality to them. When he'd taken off all the bandages and wraps and such, he'd also taken out his contacts. That meant they were able to watch as the colors that usually flashed in his eyes were now dulled down and muted. The usual sparks were gone. They ached as they watched him, though they didn't let it show. They couldn't let it show right now. They had to be professionals first and friends later. But Derek focused on his pride and respect for his friend, hoping that Spencer would feel it and take strength from it.

Spencer chewed on his lip, fighting back the memories, fighting back the emotions in them. He could do this. _I can do this. I can make it through this._ His friends had already read the medical report and they already had his basic statement from when he'd first been at the hospital. The positive emotions from Derek warmed against the edge of his shields and Spencer drew them in appreciatively, letting them ground him once more. He could do this. "I tried to fight back against them but I couldn't seem to lift my limbs and my hands were still cuffed. They beat me with hands and feet for a while. When one kicked me in the nose, I passed out again."

"What's the next thing you remember?" Emily asked.

"Being thrown down onto the floor." He answered softly. His hands clenched spasmodically in his lap. "I woke up as I connected with the ground and felt something cut across my right leg. Then they were kicking the stuff around me out of the way. They were all standing over top of me and the leader was talking, saying something about how wrong mutants are. How we're a perversion of the natural order and we should all be put down or caged up like the animals we are. The black haired one, he came and unhooked my cuffs for a second, just long enough to bring my hands from behind my back to up over my head so he could hook them around a metal pipe there. I tried to break free but I just, I couldn't." Everything had hurt, so damn much. He'd barely been able to think.

For a brief second, that pain leaked out to the room around him. His shields wavered just enough that his emotions projected to his friends and they both got a glimpse of the pain that was in that memory for him. Derek's face tightened and Emily twitched in her seat, barely holding in her gasp.

Still, Spencer noticed their reactions and quickly realized what was happening. He jerked his shields back into place once more, already apologizing. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Reid." Emily reassured him. She spoke because she could see that Derek didn't have himself in control enough to manage it. He was still reeling from that glimpse at Spencer's emotions. "Just take a second, relax a little. You can take all the time you need for this."

A few deep, steadying breaths and he nodded at them to let them know he was okay. "I'm ready. Let's just get this finished."

Derek felt his respect for his friend grow. Not many people could do this and maintain the calm that Spencer was managing.

"They, ah, they took turns for a while." Spencer said softly. His eyes dropped back down towards his lap. With his thumb, he traced over a wrinkle in his slacks. "They alternated between hits and taunts, ridiculing me and my 'powers'. They joked that I wasn't defending myself. That I must agree with them if I wasn't fighting back. When I was bleeding and begging them to stop, to let me go, they just laughed and told me to make them."

"Why didn't you fight back with your powers?" Derek asked. He knew the answer, but they had to get this on record. It would come out later anyways.

Spencer bit his lip hard enough to almost draw blood. "I couldn't. The drugs in my system prevented me from being able to reach out and gather the energy I would need to fight back. They also worked to knock down my mental shields."

"Mental shields?"

"I'm an empath, which means that I can feel the emotions from people around me." The fact that he was explaining this, knowing that it was going to potentially become public knowledge was terrifying. But there was no point in hiding anymore. Better that he face this than keep quiet and end up inadvertently allowing the bastards to stay free and able to hurt someone else. "My mental shields protect me from constantly being bombarded with emotion. With the drug in my system, I couldn't keep them up, so I was forced to feel what they felt. Their anger, their enjoyment in what they were doing. Those alone were enough to incapacitate me."

"Okay." Emily said. "When they were done hitting and ridiculing you, what happened next?"

"My hands were unhooked from around the pipe and then hooked once more in front of me. The black haired one, he got down into my face and told me that they would come and kill me if I ever told on them. I was surprised because I was sure they were going to kill me. But he told me that I was going to be a, a _message_ to show my friends what happens to freaks like me. Then the leader grabbed the chain between my cuffs and they dragged me across the ground."

This was the part that was truly hard for Spencer. He felt his throat close down slightly and his heart started to pound. The familiar sensation of a panic attack was sitting right at the edges. The lights in the room brightened momentarily as a small surge ran through the room. Spencer curled his hands into fists, clenching at the thighs of his pants, and he bowed his head, trying to get his breathing under control once more. He swore he felt the cold of the ground against his aching body as he was dragged, dragged, and the sickening pop of his shoulder as wayward kick from one of the Unsubs made it pop out of place.

Spencer didn't hear either of his friends calling to him, or see as Emily shut the tape off for a minute. What finally broke through was a voice, bright and warm in his head, wrapping him in comfort. _/Spencer, sweetie, listen to me. Pay attention to my words, okay? I need you to focus. This is just a flashback, that's all. You're not there anymore. This isn't happening. You're at the mansion, in Scotty' office, and you're safe/_

The feel of Jean's mind voice was soothing against the raw edges of Spencer's pain. Because he knew and trusted her, he let her in, let her mind touch help him to get the memories back under control once more.

"I'm okay." He gasped out, lifting one hand towards his friends. In his mind, he told Jean _/Thank you. I'm sorry/_

_/Don't apologize, sweetie. We've known one another long enough to not worry about things like that. I'm always here to help you if you need it. Are you okay now? You need me to come down there? Or do you want me to send one of your brothers?/_

Her love and concern were like a balm to Spencer. He soaked them in, the tension fading from his body as he did. Jean was always good for things like that. Though she and Scott weren't together anymore, it didn't mean that she wasn't a part of their lives. They'd split on friendly terms and she was still considered pretty much family. Jean tended to mother both Spencer and Alex, but especially Spencer. She'd been the one to help him first construct his mental shields.

She supported him now, lending him the strength to shore his shields back up, and he loved her even more for the fact that she didn't look around while there, deliberately avoiding even peeking at the memories that had gripped him. What little she did see, she didn't comment on. It was an agreement they'd made a long time ago. What she saw there, what he let her see, stayed between them, and it wasn't brought up unless he was the one to do it or he gave permission.

_/No, thank you/ _he answered her. _/I'm okay now. But thanks again, Jean/_

_/Anytime. Give a call if you need me, Spencer. I'll hear you/_ With that, she withdrew from his mind, and he finished closing his shields up.

Now that he had himself under control once more, Spencer gave his friends a shaky smile. "I'm okay." He repeated. "Let's finish this."

Emily reached out and started to record them once more. When Spencer saw it was going, he drew in a breath and set about to finish this. There wasn't really much left. It's just, what was left was a moment that really sealed his fate. "When they were dragging me, I thought for sure they were tricking me. That they were going to take me and kill me. I started to struggle and they got angry. One of them picked me up off the ground and then I was hit in the stomach. They threw me into something and the next thing I knew, there was so much pain in my leg." Unconsciously he reached down, rubbing at his thigh. "I caught a jagged piece of metal and it smashed my knee and tore across the spot above it. I couldn't help it and I screamed." He'd screamed so long and so loud, like it was ripped up from his soul. He blinked a few times and lifted his eyes to his friends. The look there was so painful, so raw. "One of them, I don't know which, grabbed my throat and choked me until I stopped making sound. They were arguing then, but I don't remember the words. I just remember how much it hurt when they picked me up and carried me somewhere. Then I was tossed down again and I tried to move right as they shut the door. My, my hands were caught in it. That was just too much. My body gave in and I passed out. When I woke up, I was in an ambulance, and you were beside me, Morgan."

There, he'd done it. He'd given his damn statement. A shudder ran down Spencer's body and he slumped slightly in his seat. He felt like he'd just run a marathon. Maybe he hadn't given some of the harder details and maybe there were parts he hadn't told at all, but he'd given them enough for them to do their job. What he'd kept to himself was nothing that would help their case. There was no need to list taunt for taunt what the people said. No need to tell them every single hit. They didn't need to know those things. The point here was that he'd done it. He'd made it through.

While Emily took care of the tape, Derek reached out and laid a hand on Spencer's arm, startling him and drawing his eyes upwards. "You did real good, pretty boy." He said softly.

He took the praise and the emotions that came with it, drawing them in. He didn't say anything, but the look they shared said plenty enough for both of them.

* * *

Spencer managed to hold on to the threads of his composure as he wrapped everything up with his friends. He even held it together enough to hug them both and wish them a safe trip home, and to promise to come and visit when he could. Through all that, he kept that calm mask on his face. But when they left, when he could no longer see the car in the distance, that mask finally started to crack. Spencer's hand clenched down on the top of his cane and he could feel the little bit of control he'd gathered starting to fray at the edges. Before he realized what he was doing, he was moving.

At the moment, he didn't really know _where_ he was going, or even where he wanted to be. All he knew was he didn't want to be _here_. Later, he could admit that he wasn't really thinking clearly when he left. He wasn't thinking about how little his body was used to walking around anymore, or how it might worry his brothers to find him gone. He didn't think about how his tightly closed shields would make him pretty much invisible to the telepaths in the house. He didn't think about anything but getting the hell away from the house and from everyone in it. What he wanted more than anything was to be alone. He _needed_ to be alone. For days and days now he'd been pushing things back, locking them down, forcing himself to focus on anything and everything but what had happened. Now he'd not only had to face the events that had changed his life, he also had to face the consequences of them. He had to look at his life and accept that things were different now. The world was going to know he was a mutant. And—what was getting to him more than anything else—he was never again going to be able to do his job. Not with this busted leg of his and not with them knowing he was a mutant.

Somehow he ended up down by the water. Why there, he didn't know. That was just where his feet brought him to. He wasn't on the docks, or even anywhere that was visible. His walk had carried him to a slightly private part of the water's edge, hidden by rocks and trees. It was a perfect spot to hide out away from any prying eyes. Thankful there was no one around to see, Spencer leaned against a tree and ungracefully lowered himself down to the ground. He barely noticed the pain in his leg from walking. He slid the last few inches and connected with a solid thud that sent a jolt up through his hip. That pain was ignored too. What did it matter? What did any of it matter against what he was feeling inside right now?

Oh, God, he wanted to break something. He wanted to scream and rant and throw a fit worthy of a three year old. So many things were bubbling up to the surface from that secret place that he'd shoved them into. So much pain that he'd tried to pretend didn't exist. It was flowing through him now until he felt like he was going to be sick from it all. A low buzz of power seemed to be running along his skin. That was another good reason for him to be away from the house. Upset like this, his shields were lower than normal and his control was shaky. He could actually _see_ the electric charge that kept dancing over his skin.

Dammit it all, this just wasn't _fair_! Why the hell did this have to happen to him? Why was he always the one that had to get into situations like this? There's only so much a human being can take before enough is finally enough. Hadn't he already had his fair share?

He'd put up with so damn much in his life already! Hell, he'd put up with more by the age of sixteen than most people did in a lifetime! More by the time he was twenty five than most people would in _three_ lifetimes! Just his career at the BAU was bad enough. Kidnapped, beaten, drugged, held hostage, actually _died_ in Georgia, almost died again from anthrax, and been shot in the leg. Those were just the main ones! In his personal life, he'd grown up knowing that his true father hated him and his adopted father despised him. He'd been raised to believe that he was the reason his biological mother was dead. Between William and the kids at school, Spencer was never once allowed to forget that he was a freak. His eyes and his intelligence guaranteed that and helped to make sure he had a childhood he'd never forget. The teen years were worse than that, and even right now those memories weren't something he wanted to think about.

Spencer knew he sounded whiney and self-pitying. He just didn't care. Right then, he wanted to sulk. He wanted to feel sorry for himself. Hadn't he earned it?

To maintain his privacy, he unconsciously projected a 'keep back' feeling around himself. Anyone who came down towards the water suddenly seemed to find themselves interested in going another direction, never even noticing that they'd been urged away. Not even Charles picked up on the subtle manipulation in the air, but then again, he never went down by the water. But there was one person in the house who felt it, and who also felt the pain that seemed to be leaking up from there, barely restrained behind shields that were leaking more and more. One person felt it and went to seek it out.

Remy ignored the feeling that urged him to move along somewhere else. Having done it himself before, he recognized it and was able to ignore it. The urge to go in and help was much stronger than the one to walk away. Only, what could he do? It was obvious that Spencer wanted to be alone right now. It was equally obvious that it was the last thing in the world he needed. Remy knew he'd had to give his statement today. Hell, he'd _felt_ as Spencer had done it. The man's pain may not have been projected, but it was strong enough for the other empath in the house to pick it up, and strong enough to even slightly depress the telepaths in the house, though none of them seemed to realize what was causing it.

Eventually Remy did the only thing he could do. He made his way to Spencer, figuring he'd play it by ear. When he found the man curled up against a tree, looking like he'd taken one too many blows from life and just wasn't sure how to get back up again, or even if he wanted to, it took everything Remy had not to rush over and bundle him up in his arms. Somehow, he resisted.

Instead, he quietly made his way forward, coming to a stop right at Spencer's side. He knew the man sensed him there. But Spencer didn't look up, didn't say anything, and Remy took his cue from that. He folded himself down to sit cross legged on the ground at his friend's side. He didn't touch him, knowing that right now it probably isn't the smartest thing to do. Spencer might not want it and there was every chance he might not be capable of touching with his control shot the way that it was.

The air was quiet around them, broken only by the short, hitching breaths that Spencer drew in. The two men sat side by side, saying nothing, and Remy waited patiently. Eventually, his patience was rewarded. Though he didn't look over towards him, Spencer finally spoke, his voice just a whisper. "Can I ask you a favor?"

Remy kept his eyes fixed on the water, sneaking only a small glance at his friend. "_Mais oui, mon ami._"

"Can you just, I mean…can I…" Spencer's voice sounded so small and just a little lost. He hesitated, not like he was unsure of what to say, but more like he was unsure of how it would be received. His voice grew even softer, so much so that Remy had to strain to hear it, and he whispered "Can I just lean on you a little? Just for a little bit?"

_Oh, cher_. Remy closed his eyes as his heart gave a painful throb. What the hell had been done to this man that he was so hesitant and scared to ask a friend for a touch he was so obviously craving? Especially a friend who understood the needs of an empath so well! Remy licked his lips and fought to keep his voice steady. "Always, cher."

Spencer didn't move at first. He stayed curled up and Remy wondered if he'd actually get the courage to take what he'd asked for, what was being offered. Would he be able to lean the way he so obviously needed to? Remy didn't try to pressure him into it. If it happened, it had to be on Spencer's terms right now. That was very important. Spencer needed to feel in control of something at the moment. So Remy waited, not moving an inch, until Spencer finally broke pose. The young genius uncurled slowly, his movements shaky and jerky, like he wasn't quite in full control of himself. It cracked something deep down inside Remy as he watched this proud, broken young man turn towards him and visibly gather his courage before slowly, carefully, lowering himself down to Remy's lap. With Remy's legs crossed, it made the perfect little pit for Spencer to lie in. He tucked his shoulder into the space between Remy's legs and he laid his cheek down on Remy's right thigh, his one hand curling over it right in front of his nose.

The first contact had a shiver running down the boy. Then it was like he sighed and just melted into the touch. Remy couldn't hold back anymore. He brought a hand up and stroked it through Spencer's hair, brushing it back from his face. His other hand came to rest on Spencer's bicep.

They stayed that way for a long minute as Spencer soaked up the contact. But Remy could feel just how tightly the man was holding himself together and just how badly he needed to let go. Pride was what he felt from him; pride kept him from breaking. That was something Remy understood. He thought for a second, continuing to pet at Spencer's hair. Finally, he lifted his gaze to the water and he spoke lowly, in a voice meant to be calm and unthreatening. "Y' know, wi' de sun going down like dat, making all dose pretty lights on de water, it almost makes dis place seem a little magical. Y' almost feel like y've stepped out of reality and into a fairytale, _non_? T'ings here, dey don't feel real. A person could do anyt'ing, be anyt'ing, and it wouldn't be real neither. Just a part of de make believe." He trailed off, wondering if Spencer understood what he was offering.

The hand on his leg tightened briefly. "What would other people say, though?" He whispered achingly.

Remy settled in a little more comfortably, tossing his head back so that the breeze blew his hair off his face. He looked down at Spencer and smiled while he stroked a knuckle across his cheek. "Don't y' know, cher? Y' don't talk about de magic. Not magic like dis. Dis kind of make believe, it's meant to stay in y'r heart, not be shared. It's a private t'ing."

He got no answer and he didn't really expect one either. The world around them grew quiet once more. The two just stayed where they were. Remy kept watching the water and slipped into an almost meditative trance. When he felt the first drop of moisture hit his pants, soaking through to his skin, he didn't speak and he didn't look down. He just kept up his soothing strokes through Spencer's hair while the young man grieved in a place of magic, where nothing is quite real, and pain drains away into the land of the make believe.

* * *

_Hey folks! Hope you liked this. Sorry that I'm not taking the time to respond individually to reviews. I'm battling a yucky head cold right now that's kicking my butt. I should still update tomorrow like I plan, but if I skip a day, you'll know why. hope you guys like this and I hope it answers some things and I really, really, really hope that it came out well. Thank you for taking the time to R&R you, my dears, are so wonderful! *MWAH!*_


	9. Chapter 9

True to his word, Remy never mentioned anything that happened down by the lake the next day. No one did, though Spencer knew that others had to know something had gone on. He knew that because he'd passed out in Remy's lap, spent from his crying jag and from the emotional upheaval of the day, and he'd woken up the next morning in his own bed. He'd woken up alone as well, a fact that shocked him. He was shocked even more to realize that he'd slept the night through without nightmares for the first time since the attack.

The shocks kept coming. When he got up, he realized that it was almost eleven o'clock in the morning. When he'd passed out last night with Remy, the sun was still setting. Holy crap. He'd slept for over _twelve hours_. He hadn't slept that long naturally in, well, in _years_! Then again, his body had gone through a lot yesterday. It had been a physically and emotionally taxing day. As if to prove that point, his knee, thigh and hip all gave a twinge at almost the same time. Spencer pulled himself up out of bed with a grimace. Okay, first things first, a bath was definitely in order, or else there was a good chance he wasn't going to be walking anywhere. From there, he'd head downstairs and try to find something to put in his stomach .After that, well, he'd deal with it then.

Feeling remarkably lighter than he had in quite a while, Spencer took his cane and made his way to the bathroom.

* * *

One hour later, Spencer made his way into the kitchen, following the feel of the presence that told him his brother was in there. He was barely in the door when his nose twitched. Immediately his eyes shot over to where Alex was standing at the counter with a big bowl in front of him and a plate beside it with some bread. Spencer swore his mouth watered. "You made your chicken salad." He said in lieu of greeting.

Alex looked up and smirked at the look on Spencer's face. "I did." At the pleading look Spencer gave him, he couldn't help but laugh. "Go sit down." He gestured over towards the table with his knife. "I'll make you up a sandwich too."

The door opened behind Spencer even as he moved away from it. It was comical, the way that Scott froze in a move almost identical to Spencer's. Seeing it brought a full laugh out of Alex this time. "All right, all right! You sit down too, Scotty. I'll bring one for you too."

Scott wasted no time in scurrying over to the table. "Thanks, Lex." He called back.

A minute later, Alex brought over three plates, dropping one off in front of each of them. He dropped a bag of chips down on the table, too. For a bit there was only the crinkle of the bag and the sound of crunching as they all crumpled up chips and added them to the sandwich. Then they all dug in and a companionable silence settled around the table. Of course, it didn't last long. Silence never lasted long for them. Between one bite and the next, Alex suddenly announced "I've been thinking about sticking around. You know, a little more permanent like."

Scott's eyebrows flew up. He finished chewing and swallowed down his bite before asking "Really?"

"Well, yeah. I like the teams you've got going on, you guys are fighting for good stuff, and I get to kick ass. Plus, you know, Hank's pretty cool to hang out with and talk to, and Logan's always a blast." He took a bite of his sandwich and grinned around it at them. "And, you know, you fuckers aren't too bad to be around either."

Spencer rolled his eyes and Scott grimaced. "Don't talk with your mouth full." Their eldest said automatically. In response, Alex opened his mouth wide and showed off his chewed up bite. All it took was for Scott to lift a hand towards his glasses and Alex snapped his mouth shut. The both of them grinned.

Finished with his own bite, Spencer debated for a second, ignoring their little silent play. Then he firmed his spine and quietly yet calmly said "I was thinking of staying too." Two heads whipped towards him, playful argument cut off, and Spencer flushed just a little and ducked his head. "You know, if you can find a place for me. I know I can't really _do_ much." He shrugged one shoulder as if that fact didn't bother him, even though they all knew it did. Spencer was not one to be idle. None of them were. It was a trait they all seemed to share. They had to be doing _something_. Leaving them alone and bored was usually when trouble happened.

"You can do plenty." Scott argued. He tipped his head, watching Spencer's face closely. "We could use you for a lot of things, Sherlock. You've got a quick mind and a great tactical sense that could come in handy helping us figure out things we get from our intel."

"Plus, you could help run the control room for training sessions." Alex added in. "Give input on how people do, help come up with new designs, all sorts of shit like that."

Embarrassed, Spencer shrugged one shoulder and looked back down at his lunch. "Whatever. I just, I figured I could do something. I'll find a way to be useful." He poked at his sandwich for a second. Then he picked it up and made himself smirk up at his brothers. "So, the three of us, all living in the same house, huh? This ought to be interesting."

The evil grin that Alex got and the pained grimace from Scott had Spencer laughing. Scott looked back and forth between the two and sighed dramatically. "What the hell am I getting myself in to?"

"Be afwaid." Alex lisped, smirking. "Be vewy, vewy afwaid."

"God help us all." Scott groaned.

Spencer snorted and popped the last bite of food in his mouth. "You wouldn't have us any other way, Scotty."

He didn't even deny it. Instead, his expression cleared and a grin slipped in its place. "Yeah, well, I'm brain damaged, what can I say?"

The easy going comment had both his brothers laughing. Spencer sat back in his seat and folded his hands on his stomach, debating if he wanted to get up and try for another sandwich, or if he was content to sit where he was. Alex had already polished off his and was sitting back now as well. Only Scott was left eating. It was as good a time as any for Spencer to broach the subject he wanted to. He'd thought about this while bathing this morning and it was something he thought he was finally ready to do. "Hey, do either of you guys have plans today?"

"I've got a few training sessions today." Scott said.

Alex belched and then grinned at him. "I'm free. What do you need?"

For just a moment, Spencer stared at him. Then he shook his head and looked over to Scott. "Are you _sure_ we're related to him?"

Overtop Alex's indignant "Hey!" Scott let out a gusty sigh and said "Sadly, yes."

Spencer wrinkled his nose. "Ugh."

"Fuck off!" Alex had his arms crossed over his chest and glared back and forth between the two. His voice drowned out the sound of the kitchen door opening, as well as the voices of the people coming in. "You two assholes can just shove it. I'm _clearly_ the most awesome of us."

Scott snorted at him. "Oh, _please_!"

At the same time, Spencer laughed. "You wish!"

"It's true! I'm way more awesome than either of you two nerds." Alex argued. "I mean, come on. All anyone has to do is look at you two. Scrawny, nerdy little fuckers. I bet you both wear pocket protectors, don't you?"

Spencer sat up straighter and scowled at him. "I do not!" He argued. "And leave my size alone. Just because _we_ don't walk around looking like we're a poster boy for steroids…!"

Choked laughter alerted them finally to the presence of the other people in the room. Spencer cut off his words, casting a quick look sideways. Heat filled his cheeks when he saw Jean, Rogue, Bobby and Kitty stand there grinning at them. Scott had his head bowed and was shaking it at them.

Alex, however, wasn't done. He was glaring at Spencer across the table. "I don't take steroids and you know it, you little pipsqueak. You're just jealous you can't look as hot as I do."

That was enough to snap Spencer's attention away from their audience and back to Alex. "Jealous?" He scoffed at the idea. As if he would be jealous of Alex! "I think you've taken one too many knocks to the head, Alexander. It's making you delusional. We should get you down to Hank for a full physical before the damage gets any worse."

"I'm going to hit you." Alex growled at him.

"No you won't."

"Like hell. I'm gonna punch your damn head."

"Am I supposed to be scared of that?"

"Keep it up, pidge. Keep it up. You're only making me wanna hit you more."

"You can't hit me, anyways. I'm crippled." Spencer said smugly. It was the first time he'd ever come right out and said the words and he didn't even stop to think about it. He was too caught up in the smug amusement of bickering with his brother. He missed the look of surprise that Scott shot his way.

It only threw Alex off balance for a split second. He regained his composure quickly. "Like that's gonna stop me. Aint your head that's crippled, brat."

"Yeah, but Scotty won't let you hit me."

The two turned simultaneously to look to Scott, who lifted a brow and said "Not until Hank gives the okay."

Spencer wore a smug look as he turned and stuck his tongue out at Alex. For his part, Alex grumbled and slumped back in his seat again, eliciting more laughter from their audience. "Fine." He growled out. "Whatever. I'll hit you later, then."

"I'm utterly terrified." Spencer deadpanned.

Like usual, it was Scott who stepped in before things could get a chance to progress again. He held a hand out to them to keep them both quietly and he spoke a little louder than normal to make sure that they wouldn't try to talk. "So, Spencer, why were you asking what we were doing today? Was there something you needed?"

What? Spencer furrowed his brow and backtracked the conversation. Realization hit and his face cleared. "Oh! Yes, actually, there was." He'd forgotten all about that thanks to Alex. He gave his brother a brief glare for that, just on principal. "One of the things I haven't tried to do yet is figure out whether or not I'm still a capable driver with my leg like this. But, I need to go into town and pick up some things. I'm essentially living out of my go-bag and what was already here and my supplies are running low. I was hoping one of you might be able to take me in to town for a few things?"

Any of the lingering annoyance on Alex's face vanished. "I'll take you, pidge. I've been dying to get into town for some shit of my own anyways."

"Wonderful. I just need a few things and maybe a few more clothes. I only have a few outfits here. Plus, I'd like to get a replacement cane so I can return this one to the med lab."

"We can swing by our condo too. I think you still got some stuff there." Alex offered. The three of the maintained a condo in the city that they all shared for times they got together and didn't want to have to be at the mansion around everyone else. It was also for when Alex or Spencer would come to town and needed a place to stay and for Scott when he needed to just get the hell out for a night or so. It was in all three of their names and they all kept some personal things there.

Spencer soon found himself putting his plate in the sink and heading out of the kitchen with Alex, the both of them giving a brief goodbye, showing absolutely on signs that only moments before one had been threatening to punch the other in the head. No sooner had the door shut behind them then Scott dropped his head down to thunk against the table. "Those two are going to be the death of me one day." His voice was low and muffled against the tabletop.

Jean's bright laughter danced over him. She brushed a hand against his shoulder as she passed him on her way to the sink. "You love every minute of it."

"Yeah, well, we all have our faults, right?"

* * *

A trip to town proved to be just the thing. Though part of Spencer was afraid at being out in public again for the first time since this who incident had happened, he wasn't anywhere near as afraid as he had thought he'd be. When he stopped to think about it, he had to laugh at himself. How could anyone feel really afraid when they had a big, hulking bodyguard almost glued to their side? Alex barely went more than ten feet from him at any given time. Not that Spencer complained about it. He didn't even tease. He was too grateful to risk saying something that might cause him to back off.

As much as the two bickered with one another, they really did enjoy each other's company. The afternoon was spent full of insults and laughter, playful shoves and punches, and just that easy going feeling that Spencer always associated with his brother. Shopping was generally a tedious experience for Spencer anyways. Too many people, too much noise, and way too many emotions to try and filter out. Add in the fear that sat in him today and he had been sure it was going to be a hellish trip. But Alex not only made it bearable, he made it fun.

By the time the duo made their way back to the mansion, both were in good spirits, and they both had plenty of bags. Spencer had enough bags total that Alex actually had to help him carry them all upstairs from the car. He had basic things like shampoo and deodorant and such like that. Bathroom products. Plus, he had a few new pairs of slacks, more underclothes, a few new shirts, and even a new coat that Alex had insisted he buy. But he also had indulged and gotten himself a few items that weren't really necessary. The cane, now that was necessary. He wanted one that was his own and one that was more comfortable in his hand. The shop that he and Alex had found had been great. The man inside had helped Spencer check a few until he found one that was the right size and had just the right grip on it for him. The black cane looked simple and classic and it was comfortable in his hand, which was the important thing. He was quite content to walk out of the store with it, already feeling the difference in having a cane at just the right size.

Now he had to unload all of this stuff, though. He stood in his bedroom and looked around at the things sprawled on his bed. Alex had dropped the stuff off and then had bailed on him, saying that Charles had called him in to some meeting the guy was having. Spencer waved him off and put his attention to unloading his bags and putting things away.

The longer he was here, the more this room really did begin to feel like home to him. He knew he was lucky that he'd been given a suite instead of a basic room. It meant that he had his bathroom in room with him, a huge benefit. Most likely they'd done that so that he could have a place to privately soak and relax in the bath when his leg bothered him. A bath really was starting to sound good again, even though he'd only taken one a few hours ago. As Spencer stood over his bed, looking at the last of the clothes, he rubbed absently at his hip. It seemed like his hip ached just as badly when he walked too much as his knee did. _I need to start to get this leg back into shape. Going to town today shouldn't have tired my muscles out this badly. I need to put them into shape._

It was something worth thinking about. For now, he pulled the last of the tags off his new clothes and tossed them into his laundry basket. The basket was just the right size that he could lift it and hold it with one hand against his hip. He set off from his room with it and made his way down to the laundry. A few minutes and the load was in the washer and happily running away. Spencer set his mental alarm for a half an hour and then he made his way out and started to head back towards the staircase so he could go back up to his room.

He'd just reached the bottom stair when someone knocked on the mansion's front door. Quirking an eyebrow at the perfect timing of it, he chuckled and made his way over to the door. Might as well answer it since he was right there.

With his free hand, he pulled the front door open. The smile died on his lips and his body went utterly still in shock. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he gripped his cane tighter, staring at the man in front of him. He had to clear his throat before he could make himself say "Hello, Colonel."

* * *

Leaning back in his chair, Scott resisted the urge to rub at his forehead. His good mood from his earlier lunch was gone. The day was half done and he was ready to go climb in bed; preferably with Logan's arms wrapped around him. For just a little while he wanted to shut out the outside world and pretend there was no one but him and Logan. Nothing that had to be taken care of, or assessed, or handled in some way. He didn't want to be Cyclops. He wanted to just be Scott. Scott and Logan. But duty came first. There were strange happenings out in Colorado that bore a startling resemblance to what had happened to Spencer. That alone was enough to have Scott's full attention focused on this. There was nothing he wanted more than to catch the bastards responsible for doing this to his baby brother. Over and over he heard the utter exhaustion in the boy's voice when Spencer had broken down and told Scott that he was tired. He could still clearly see the exhaustion in Spencer when Remy had carried him up to the house last night, sound asleep in his arms. And hadn't that just been a surprise? Spencer, who no one had been able to find, showing up in Remy's arms, his face still wet with tears. Remy hadn't said a word about what had gone on between them except to say that Spencer had fallen asleep and he'd be fine come morning. He'd also warned Scott not to ask about it. Something about the way the Cajun had said that had told Scott to respect that request.

"Three reports have come in from Denver." Charles was saying, drawing Scott's attention once more. "Two of the mutants died en route to the hospital. The last one survived for two days before he passed away from his injuries."

"Jesus." Alex swore lightly. Beside him, Jean reached a hand out, putting it on his shoulder in a show of friendly support.

Hank leaned forward on the couch to look around Ororo, who was sitting beside him. "Were the injuries consistent between the three victims?"

"Yes." Charles folded his hands on his desk and sighed. "They're also consistent with Spencer's injuries. No weapons were used. All three were beaten severely and all three were drugged with the same drugs that were found in Spencer's system. In the statement from the last victim, he states that, as best as he could tell, there were three men that attacked him. He gave a general physical description of them." Gently, Charles looked over to Scott and Alex. "If there is a chance that Dr. Reid might be able to provide us with some kind of description, we might be able to tell if these are the same people."

He'd known that was coming. That was just another thing to make his headache grow. Scott tried to keep his tone neutral as he said "He's given me a general description, as well as a small bit of a profile to them."

"I know this is difficult for him, but if he can provide information for us to work with, or maybe sit down with a sketch artist, then we might be able to compare those to the sketch that the police have from this last man."

Scott nodded at him. He'd been expecting something like this. He felt Logan's leg brush against his, a silent sign of support, and he appreciated it immensely. He took a deep breath to draw his composure. Turning his head, he looked to where Remy sat by the window, silent as he'd been through this discussion. The Cajun caught his look and seemed to understand what Scott wanted without it having to be spoken. He gave a soft little nod. Not many at the mansion knew that Remy could draw—quite well, actually. Scott wanted him there to draw the image that Spencer drew out for them.

"I'll take care of it, Sir." Scott told the Professor smoothly.

"Good. If we come up with nothing in the next week, I'd like a team to go and investigate the area. I'll be keeping an eye out for any more stories like this to tell us if these men are moving along. For all we know, they already have. I'll monitor the situation closely. Until then, I believe that's everything." A sudden far-away look came over Charles's face. A second later, his expression became slightly shuttered. "With good timing, I believe. Scott, Alex, it would appear you have a guest downstairs."

Alex sat forward in his chair. "A guest?"

"Yes. Your father is downstairs. It looks like Dr. Reid is taking him to your office, Scott, for a drink."

If anything else was said, Scott didn't hear. He and Alex were already up and moving out of the room. Scott couldn't help his thoughts as he hurried down the hall. _Dammit! What is he doing here? Why NOW? _This was the last thing in the world any of them needed to deal with.

* * *

_Okay, so except for the last little bit, this chapter is essentialy brand new, and also written while I wa sick. So if it sucks, I'm blaming it on my cold. LOL_

_I'm finally kicking that cold, thank GOODNESS! I swear, I was ready to cut my nose off. Blargh. But, thank you, all of you, for your well wishes. They were sweet!_

_Hisuiko: Thank you, sweetie, for the well wishes. And I'm glad you liked the waterside scene. To all of you, I actually based a bit of that off of a personal moment in my life. So maybe it seemed cheesy, but ah, it really happened to me once. Or, close to it. I kind of tweaked it a little so it wasn't 'exact'_

_Andromeda Hayes: Thanks! glad you loved it!_

_readaddict123: I know this wasn't a 'soon' update, but I am back now, so I hope the wait wasn't too bad!_

_ 4: It thrills me beyond anything to know that you think that chapter was well written. I was worried. Then again, I'm a worrywart and I worry about everything. Psh. Who cares, right? :D_

_DeputyDog: I remember how well that helped me long ago and I was glad to let it help Spencer. I do have to say I love a good comfort scene. Those two sure are getting close. A rather unique way of dating, I'd say, lol_

_IntoTheWilds: I can't believe I made you cry! Half of me feels so bad for that and the other half (the writer) wants to squee and maybe to a little jig or something-because there is no higher compliment on writing than in the ability to inspire such strong emotion in someone. So *hugs* for your tears, but at the same time, THANKS! :D_

_sashathetech: Ahh, a convert. Welcome, welcome, my child. Yes, come to the S/R side. It's sweet over here. We have feels and sillies and cake and coffee. No, seriously though, glad you like it and thanks for taking the time to review! I'm always happy to convert someone to Spencer and Remy loving._


	10. Chapter 10

_In this chapter, there's a small section of dialogue that's almost identical to one in my "Vegas" story. It's because, like I said before, I'd never intended that this story be put up when I wrote it, so when I wrote Vegas, I stole the scene from here and put it in there. So those of you that recognize it, well, sorry. But to fix it, I would've had to rewrite a good chunk of this chapter, and I'm too lazy to do that. LOL Also, Chris Summers really isn't a nice man in my story. Fair warning :P_

* * *

Christopher Summers looked right at Spencer, a sneer growing on his face. "_You're_ here." He said the words with unveiled disgust in his tone. Sighing, the man stepped in, leaving his bag on the front porch. "Bring my bag in, boy. Where's Scott at?"

Longtime habit had Spencer moving to grab Chris's bag without a protest. He took it up in his free hand before using his shoulder to bump the door closed as he came in. "Scott is meeting with the Professor right now, sir." He explained. After a quick mental debate, he added "Why don't I take you to his office? You can have a drink and wait for him there."

"I know the way. Hurry up and bring my bag. I don't fancy standing here all day."

As the man set off into the house, Spencer gritted his teeth together and started to follow him, trying not to move too slowly. His leg protested the speed he was using but he kept going anyways. Still, Chris beat him to the office; not surprisingly. When he got in, Spencer found the man sitting down on one of the high backed chairs, watching him enter with a mocking little smile. Spencer tightened his shields a little more in hopes of avoiding the emotions he knew Chris would be feeling. After setting the bag on the ground by the couch, he limped over toward Scott's bar.

"So, what happened to you now?" Chris demanded. He had turned in his seat and was looking at Spencer's cane. "Get yourself in trouble again and make Scott bail you out?" He snorted and shook his head while turning back around. "I still can't believe they let someone like you in the Bureau. It's a disgrace."

_Calm. Just keep calm_. He told himself over and over. "I was attacked." He said the words in a flat voice with as little emotion as possible. No matter what he said, he knew Chris would find fault with it. But not answering him would cause more trouble than it was worth. Plus, if he was staying—and his bag indicated that he planned on it—then he would hear it soon enough anyways. And maybe a small part of him was hoping, just a little, that his words might inspire something other than anger or scorn from the man he'd always desperately sought approval from. "A group of mutant haters tried to beat me to death. The hospital called Scott and he brought me here to heal." In a soft voice, he couldn't help tacking on "The hospital staff said I was lucky to survive."

Just as Spencer started to pour the scotch he knew Chris preferred, he heard the man's mumbled "Pity."

His hand shook slightly and a small amount of scotch spilled on the counter. He set the bottle down and quickly grabbed the rag that was kept there. He was just mopping it up when he heard footsteps in the hallway. A second later, he saw Scott and Alex both come striding into the room. "Pop!" Alex exclaimed.

It brought a pang to Spencer's chest, the same as it always did, when he saw Chris happily rise from the chair and move to embrace his boys. He had to look away from the happy reunion before any of them could see the look on his face. Greetings and hugs were exchanged. As they settled down, Alex asked "So what're you doing here, Pop?"

Spencer had pulled out three more glasses, pouring a drink for each one of them. He was trying to find a tray when he felt Scott come up behind him. A hand rested briefly on his shoulder, love and warmth radiating in the touch. Then Scott was picking up the glasses. "I'm sorry." He murmured. "I had no idea he was coming. You can go if you want."

With a brittle smile, Spencer picked up his glass and downed half of it in one gulp. "It's fine." He said as the burn spread down to his gut. "I'm fine. We both know it'll be worse if I just leave. I'll behave, Scotty." Plus, Chris always behaved better when Scott and Alex were around.

Softly, he heard Scott say "It's not your behavior I'm worried about."

Behind them Chris was answering Alex's question. "It's been a while since I've seen my boys and I'm on leave right now for the next two weeks so I thought I'd come and pay a visit. I didn't know you were here, but it's a pleasant surprise. I get to see the both of you at once!"

Scott almost stumbled on his way back over. Spencer was the only one that saw it, as well as the quick recover. "You're staying for two weeks?" Scott asked as he handed out the drinks.

"That was the plan. That is, unless my sons are too busy to see me?"

"No, no! I was just surprised." Scott hurried to reassure him. "Usually you can only stay a few days at most."

From the safety of his spot behind the chair, Spencer was free to stare without worry that he would be seen. It was a good thing, too, because his mouth was hanging open in shocked horror. Two weeks? Two _weeks_? Snapping his jaw closed, Spencer shut his eyes and briefly prayed for patience. He could do this. He could survive the man being here for two weeks. Just because he was here didn't mean that Spencer had to visit with him. He could spend plenty of time in his room. Coming out and dealing with him for meals wouldn't be that bad.

Only when he had himself under control again did Spencer make his way over to join his brothers. Alex scooted over on the couch and patted the spot beside him, grinning at Spencer. "Come sit with me, pidge."

Spencer mustered up the best smile that he could and made his way to the couch. He set his drink on the coffee table and propped his cane up off to the side before bracing on Alex's shoulder and lowing himself down. He had to fight not to drop his hand down to rub at his thigh. The ache there was making itself known and reminding him that he couldn't walk that speed down the hallway; at least, not yet, and especially not after all the use he'd put it through today. He needed to work out the muscle and get it into shape before he tried doing anything more than careful walking with it.

His hand slid off of Alex's shoulder and he murmured a low "Thanks" to his brother. Not low enough. Chris gave him a hard look. "Don't mumble, boy."

"Yes, Colonel." Spencer answered automatically.

"How long are _you_ staying for?"

There was a certain way he had of saying 'you' and 'boy' that left no doubt in anyone's mind that he wasn't referring to his boys, but to Spencer. And Spencer was most definitely _not_ considered one of 'his boys'. Before Spencer could answer, Alex spoke up. "Long as he wants or needs, Pop. We've just been focusing on getting him better right now."

"Yes. He said he was attacked."

"That's right." Scott chimed in. There was an edge to his voice; the same one that he got whenever he felt Chris was pushing Spencer too hard. Spencer looked over and saw Scott leaning back in his seat in a pose that might have looked casual, but wasn't. He'd taken the other high backed chair and sat loosely there, his glass cradled in one hand. "We almost lost him. But, thankfully, he's been getting better and better. It's been wonderful to have him here."

Chris took a drink of his scotch. "That's nice." He said noncommittally. Then his tone brightened and he shifted the topic. "So, where's your other half? The last time I was here, the two of you barely separated from one another!"

A deep laugh came into the office. "Right here, Chris." Logan grumbled good-naturedly. He strode in without a qualm, smiling at the group of them. He headed over to Scott, bending to give him a quick kiss before taking up a place beside the chair, one arm on the back so that he leaned on it. That movement showed Spencer that someone else had come in with Logan. Right behind him was Remy, and Spencer could see the uncertainty on his friend. Remy apparently wasn't sure if he should be in here. Most likely, Logan had dragged him in. When the group of them was together, Logan wasn't shy about bringing in any form of backup he could to help deal with Chris. He wasn't fond of the man, but he faked it for Scott's sake.

Spencer smiled at Remy before he even realized it. "Hey, Remy." He greeted his friend.

"_Bonjour_, cher." Remy said smoothly. He looked over to Chris and gave him a smile that Spencer was surprised to see no one else noticed was fake. "_Bonjour,_ M. Summers."

"Hello again, Gambit." Chris said cheerfully.

Logan reached a hand out, hooking it on the back of Remy's neck. "Come on in and get comfortable, Gumbo. No need to just stand around behind me."

With a quick little glare, Remy shrugged out from underneath Logan's hand. His look smoothed back out into a smile as he made his way over to the couch. He didn't hesitate to sit down right beside Spencer, one of his arms coming to rest on the couch right behind the young doctor. For that, Spencer was eternally grateful. The close proximity of his friend was immensely soothing. It made it easier to feel Remy's emotions and not the others with them sitting this close. Without shame, he adjusted his shields, blocking out the others as best as he could but allowing himself to feel the steady presence of his friend beside him. It gave him something to focus on as the minutes dragged by and he was forced to listen to Chris talk all about work, and his newest fling, and a million other things. Never once did the man directly acknowledge Spencer's presence as he spoke. It was as if he didn't exist. At one point, Spencer picked his glass back up, taking a drink to try and steady himself. All that got him was a slight sneer from the man, as if Spencer drinking was some kind of sin.

Eventually, Chris put his glass down on the table. "Why don't I put my bag away and then we all go get something to eat, huh? Just the family." He suggested. His smile turned toward Logan. "That is, if you don't mind me stealing my son for the afternoon."

"Nope." Logan said simply. "Got some work to do round here."

"Good, then it's settled." Rising, Chris looked around at them. "One of you help me find a room and then you two go get ready and we'll go out to eat and have a nice little reunion together."

In that moment, Spencer wished he had his sunglasses to hide behind so that he could close his eyes against the ache he felt. But he kept his calm mask in place. When he saw Scott and Alex about to protest, he shook his head minutely at them, a silent appeal to let it go. After a moment, Alex sighed quietly and Scott nodded, not seeming too happy but agreeing anyways. "Come on, Pop." Alex said gruffly. "I'll show you where you can stay."

The instant that Chris was out the door, Spencer let his eyes slide shut. He heard movement before Scott spoke in a soft voice. "Sherlock…"

"Go, Scotty." Spencer told him. He managed to keep the bitterness from his tone as he said "Go have your family dinner. It's fine." For the sake of his brother, he opened his eyes and tried to make himself appear as calm as possible. He even managed a little smile. "It's fine, really, Scotty. We both know how this is. Don't let this ruin your visit with him, please. He loves you and he's honestly happy to see you. Go get ready and enjoy your afternoon with him."

It was obvious that Scott didn't like this, but equally obvious that Spencer wasn't going to budge on it. After a long pause, Scott finally sighed. "We'll talk later, Spence."

"I look forward to it." He replied sarcastically.

When Scott and Logan left the office, Logan shutting the door behind him, Spencer gave in once more and let his eyes close. His head tipped back to rest against the back of the couch. "Well, shit." Without realizing it, his hand moved to his leg, finally giving in and rubbing at the sore muscle. "That went well, don't you think?"

Remy moved the arm on the back of the couch, curling it enough that his fingers could play with Spencer's hair. It was wonderfully relaxing. "Y' okay, cher?" The Cajun murmured gently.

"I should be used to it, you know?" Spencer said in lieu of an answer. He didn't open his eyes as he continued to speak. "He's always been like this. It's not anything new."

"Don't make it no easier to deal with."

True. Very, very true. "I can handle his indifference. He can ignore me all he wants and I can live with that. It's just…" Pausing, Spencer pressed his head back harder against the couch as if it would chase away the anger inside of him. "He asked me what happened to me. I told him and I was dumb enough to say that the hospital said I was lucky to be alive. Stupid me, telling him that. I should know better by now than to set myself up. I should have known what his reaction would be. But, dammit, it still hurt. I tell him I was lucky to survive and his response is 'pity'. And, God, I could feel he meant it. He always means it."

"Oh, cher." The compassion in Remy's voice was a warm, soothing balm on Spencer's soul. He felt Remy's free hand touch his cheek, stroking softly. "M' po' Spencer. Y' don't deserve dat. Y'r a _bijou_, a jewel, cher. It's his loss if he don't see dat." His hand turned a little, cupping Spencer's cheek, his thumb running over Spencer's cheekbone. "_Mon bijou_."

Warmth and affection seemed to flow back and forth between them. Spencer opened his eyes, looking up to see that Remy's sunglasses had made it to the top of his head and his beautiful eyes were watching Spencer's face. He watched Remy's lips curl just slightly. "_Mon bijou_." The older man repeated again, the words a low murmur. It seemed the most natural thing in the world when Remy bent his head. The first touch of his lips had Spencer sighing and tipping his head up to meet him. Once more his eyes drifted shut. The kiss was slow and soft and sweet. It was perfect.

Remy pulled back, brushing his nose over Spencer's in a gesture that made them both smile. "Dat's better." His voice was husky, his accent slightly thicker. "Eyes like y'rs should never be sad. I like to see y' happy, me."

"I always am with you." Spencer said the words without a hint of coyness. The honesty in them had the glow in Remy's eyes flaring brighter for a moment. He lowered his head again, letting their lips brush once more. This time when he pulled back, he shifted them both, settling himself into the corner of the couch and pulling Spencer into his arms with him. He allowed Spencer a moment to bend and lift his leg up onto the couch and then Remy was pulling him in close. They ended with Remy sitting with his back against the couch, legs out stretched, and Spencer turned sideways, both legs up on the couch, his upper half almost in Remy's lap. His shoulder was tucked under Remy's arm and his head pillowed on the Cajun's shoulder.

He brought his free hand up, letting it rest over Remy's heart, and he marveled to himself how easy this was. "All of this is so easy with you." He found himself saying softly. "It's never been like this for me before. I've never been this comfortable around…anyone."

A soft kiss was pressed to the top of his head. "Me neither. Dat's what tells me it's right."

"But it makes no sense. I've only known you a few weeks now."

"Don't make no matter, Spencer." His hand dropped down, soothingly stroking over the outside of Spencer's thigh, relaxing the muscles that were still aching. "Maybe f' de average people, dis would be fast. But y' and I got something going f' us dat most people don't."

Curious, Spencer tipped his face up. "Oh?"

A smile curved Remy's lips and he pressed a kiss to the tip of Spencer's nose, making the young doctor smile back. "_Oui, mon bijou_. Our empathy. In a regular dating and relationship, half of it is getting to know one another and de other half is trying to figure out de feelings. What y' feel, what de other feels. Y' and I, we can look at one another and know what de other is feeling, yeah? Now, dat don't mean dat I aint scared, just like anyone else."

That had Spencer's eyebrows going up. "Why are you scared, Remy?"

"Oh, f' de usual t'ings. Scared y'r gonna find someone else. Scared y'r gonna get to know me and find out dat I'm not what y' want. Scared y'r gonna hear t'ings bout m' past, bout me, and dat y'r gonna leave, just like everyone else done." Those red and black eyes were locked on Spencer's, so open and serious in that moment. "De same t'ings I know y'r scared of. But, I'm willing to risk dem. Y'r worth de risk to me."

The bigger part of Spencer wanted to drop his head back down and hide his face against Remy's chest. But if the Cajun could have the strength to look at him as he bared his heart, then Spencer could do no less. So he maintained eye contact as he spoke. "I'm not a great catch here, Remy. Especially not now." He gestured towards his leg with one hand.

Remy's eyes flashed with something that Spencer couldn't quite read. He kept rubbing over the outside of Spencer's leg. "I don't care about none of that. It aint important to me, Spencer. Y'r scars aint gonna put me off."

The honesty in those words was amazing. Spencer found he actually believed him. What would happen when Remy was actually faced with those scars, he didn't know. But for now, like this, he believed him. "I…I don't know where things are going to go for me, or what's going to happen. I don't even know what I'm going to do with my life anymore. But if, if you're willing to try, knowing what you know about me…I'm willing to try too."

The hand on Spencer's leg shifted up to cup his face again. Spencer lifted his face just as Remy brought his down. This kiss was just as soft and just as sweet as the first. When they broke apart, Remy smiled at him. "We'll fumble our way through dis together, _oui_?"

Spencer settled back in against Remy's chest, a smile on his lips. "Together."

Once more Remy's hand was stroking over his leg. Spencer shifted the arm that was against Remy, moving it so that it slid around behind him, holding him close. In response, Remy chuckled and gave a light pull, bringing Spencer directly into his lap. He put his chin on top Spencer's head. Feeling warm and cherished, Spencer closed his eyes, smiling against Remy's chest. Content in a way he could never remember being, he found himself drifting off to sleep.

* * *

How long he napped there, Spencer wasn't sure. But when he woke up again, he was still in the same position he'd fallen asleep in, still held close in Remy's arms. It was the first time that Spencer had ever trusted anyone other than family, or Derek or Logan, to stay beside him as he slept. And, he counted Derek and Logan in the category of family. Generally, his own personal experience and fears prevented him from being able to sleep with anyone else with him. The fact that he'd slept—deeply and without nightmares, too—told him exactly how much he had come to trust Remy.

The sound of a something brought his attention around to what it was that had woken him to begin with. Someone was in the room, talking in a low voice. It only took a second to feel the emotional imprint of who it was to discover that, it wasn't just one, but _two_ people, and those two people were Scott and Logan. Okay, so he and Remy had been out for a while if Scott was back home already. Lying against Remy's chest, Spencer debated even getting up. If Scott was talking that low, it had to mean that he didn't want to wake the two, which meant that he didn't care if they slept. That was almost enough to help Spencer fall right back asleep. Then a knock at the office door was enough to cut that thought off at the pass.

He heard a mad scramble to the door and low, muttered curses before the door was opened and Scott was quietly saying "Yes?" to whoever was there.

Grumbling slightly at the sounds that were disturbing him, Spencer turned his face a little more, trying to bury it against Remy better. He felt Remy's arms adjust accordingly and the older man nuzzled in at his hair a little bit, making Spencer's lips curve. He sent Remy feelings of sleepy contentment and felt humor in return. "Don't t'ink we're gonna be so lucky, cher." Remy said softly into his hair. "Dat sounded like Jeannie calling us all f' dinner."

"Don't care." Spencer mumbled. He tightened his arms around Remy just a little more. "Comfy."

"Me too. Y'r a nice armful to hold on to, cher. I could get used to dis, me."

That made Spencer's happiness and contentment grow. He happily stayed right where he was as he listened to Scott sigh and finally move away from the door. His voice wasn't as quiet anymore when he spoke again. "This is going to suck." He told Logan. After another sigh, he said "Rems? Spence? Dinner, guys."

Spencer didn't move. He didn't want dinner. Hell, he didn't want to do anything that required moving. He was perfectly content to stay here.

"Come on, brat. I know you two are awake. I heard ya mumbling." Logan chimed in. "Now, up!"

Annoyed at the noise, Spencer furrowed his brows but didn't even bother opening his eyes. They'd go away eventually. Right? He felt Remy's amusement.

Another person came into the room. "What's going on in here?" Alex's voice asked loudly. The sound of it made Spencer scowl. Couldn't Alex ever do anything quietly? No, of course not. As if to prove the point, Alex's voice grew a little louder. "Wakey wakey, Spencer! I'm starved and Jean won't let us eat until everyone's there. So get your ass up and let's get moving!"

This time Spencer responded to them. He pulled one hand up, holding it up over his shoulder long enough to flip them all off. Then he dropped his hand back down and slipped it under Remy's jacket, hugging around his waist a little closer this time. Did the man ever go anywhere without that jacket of his? Not that Spencer really minded. He looked good in it. Damn good.

Chuckling, Remy nuzzled at Spencer's hair once more. "Dey aint gonna leave us alone till we get up. Y' know dat, right?"

"Unfortunately, yes. But I don't want to get up. I'm not hungry." Spencer whined.

One of Remy's hands slid up his arm, moving so that he could take hold of Spencer's chin, tipping his face up. The kiss he pressed against Spencer's pouting lips was sweet and soft. "Y' gotta eat something, Spencer. Y'r body needs de fuel, _non_? Been through so much lately. Y' gotta help dat energy get back up to normal."

Still pouting, Spencer nonetheless blinked his eyes open. He couldn't resist adding in one more whine in the hopes it would stave off being forced to the dining hall. "The Colonel is going to be there."

"_Oui_, dat's probably true." Remy said agreeably. He let go of Spencer's chin to run his knuckles down his cheek. "Y' just sit right by Remy and we'll entertain one another with flirting and sexual innuendos dat'll drive y'r _frères _insane and make dem blush, _oui_?"

A chuckle slid past Spencer's lips. He sighed once more, but they could all hear the amused sound to it. Spencer shifted up, initiating the kiss between them, before he sat all the way up. "I guess that's good enough incentive to get up." He said jokingly.

He took the cane when Remy handed it to him and bore down on it to help him rise to his feet. His leg protested the movement and a wince slipped out before he managed to school his features. A warm bath might be in order before bed. He pushed that down as best he could and made his way toward his brothers, glaring sleepily at them. Alex just grinned right back and Scott shook his head. "I swear," Alex said, slinging an arm around Spencer's shoulders. "You've got to be the whiniest little brat when you wake up. How old are you, shithead? Two?"

"At least I wake up." Spencer fired back instantly. "You'd sleep through a bullhorn by your ear."

"One time! One time I sleep through sirens and you never let me live it down!"

Spencer's grin flashed, sharp and pleased. "Of course not. What kind of little brother would I be if I did?"

As the two started out the door, Scott shook his head again. Then he turned to smile at Remy. "Alex had one thing right. Spence is always a brat when he gets woken up. You handled him well."

"Dat's cause Remy's just dat good." The Cajun said cockily. He darted away from the hand Scott aimed for his head and took off laughing after the others. Scott grinned, watching as Remy caught up and fell into step on Spencer's free side. He felt almost like a parent, watching the three of them walk down the hall together. When Logan's hand threaded with his, Scott cast a smile at him. Then he set off after the boys.

* * *

Dinner wasn't as bad as it could have been. Remy had been serious about his bribe and had spent almost the entire meal flirting with Spencer and making him laugh. He'd told stories designed to bring a smile from the listeners and soon, they'd had the attention of at least half of the table. When Remy wasn't regaling them with humorous stories, Spencer was chiming in with ones of his own, telling tales of things he and his brothers had done, or things that had been done with the team. All the while, the flirtation between them continued, bringing a smile to most of the table. There were few there that weren't happy about the budding relationship. Most were enjoying watching it grow between the two they thought were perfect for one another. Not even Rogue looked upset by it. She hadn't showed any animosity towards Spencer since she'd witnessed that argument in the kitchen between him and Warren.

After dinner, Spencer retreated outside with Remy and Logan, at their insistence—more like, they gave him no choice, simply ushering him out the door with them. Somehow that had progressed from a simple visit while the men smoked to a poker game that kept them going for almost two hours. Eventually, Spencer had backed out of the game, saying he had a few things to take care of before bed. It had both surprised and pleased him when Remy had escorted him back to his room. That pleasure grew when, right outside his door, Remy had brought a hand up to lace in his hair, leaning in and giving him a good night kiss. "Sleep sweet, _mon bijou_."

"You too, Rems." Spencer mumbled, flushing and smiling all at the same time. When he went into his room, his smile stayed with him. It was still there even after the long bath he indulged in. And it was still there as he settled in his bed and watched his brother take up his customary perch beside him. Though Spencer insisted he was fine, Alex still made a point to be there when he fell asleep, at least. Honestly, Spencer didn't protest it that much. It eased him to have Alex there as he slept. Tonight he was even more grateful. For this little bit, no one else was around but Alex, allowing Spencer to broach the topic he'd been thinking about for the past couple days. "Hey, Alexi?"

The rarely used nickname was enough to catch Alex's full attention. He was lying stretched out beside Spencer on the bed, hands folded behind his head; at the sound of Spencer's voice, he rolled his head to look at his brother, who was lying on his side facing him. "What's up?"

"I want to ask you something." Nervous, Spencer bit his lip. His finger traced patterns in the sheet in front of his face. "But the thing is, I don't…I don't want everyone knowing about this. I need this to be between you and I, please."

It was so rare for Spencer to ask for a favor; even more rare for him to ask Alex for one. The older man rolled over so that he was mirroring Spencer's pose, their bodies now facing one another. "Of course, pidge. What's going on?"

Well, it was now or never. Spencer forced himself to say what he was thinking. "I know I haven't always been in the best of shape, but I always did at least have some muscle to me. But with, with this…I need to rebuild muscle mass and I need to train up the muscle in my leg. It's going to hurt to do it and it's going to be difficult for a while, but I need to do it. I need to get the muscle around the damaged area in peak condition so that future strain on my leg is minimal and…"

"Pidge, pidge. Is there a point somewhere in this?"

A nervous laugh huffed out from Spencer. "You're the only person I know for a fact isn't going to treat me like I'm made of glass." He said plainly. Forcing himself, he looked Alex in the eyes. "Will you help me with some daily workouts to help me train my muscle up and learn how to compensate for it? I tend to attract lunatics and, in case I'm stuck unable to use my powers again, I want a semi decent chance of being able to defend myself. I want to be able to walk stairs without getting out of breath, or be able to handle walking for a shopping trip, or still be able to wrestle and fight with you just like we always have."

Even in the semi-dark room, Spencer clearly saw Alex's grin. "So basically you're giving me a free chance to beat on you daily, huh? I'm totally in."

Despite the teasing, Spencer could see the serious look in Alex's eyes and knew that his brother understood. "Thanks, Alexi."


	11. Chapter 11

Four days after Spencer started his training with Alex, he was beginning to regret choosing his brother of all people to help him. Yes, one of his motivators had been that he knew Alex wouldn't take it easy on him. The man had never taken it easy on him when it came to any kind of training; he believed that taking it easy on someone was a way to teach them to be sloppy. Spencer didn't want sloppy. He didn't want to be seen as fragile or be coddled and treated like glass or anything like that, making Alex the perfect choice as a trainer. Or so he'd thought.

He was beginning to wish that Alex saw him as just _slightly_ fragile.

The first thing the man had done was attack Spencer's eating habits. Now that was something Spencer had been prepared for and one he was willing to compromise on. So when Alex had given him a calorie and carb quota to meet each day, Spencer had been surprised by the amount, but he'd agreed to it. He'd even graciously taken to Alex's orders that he start getting out of his room more. Alex wanted him to walk each morning, just around the grounds, before he even took his shower. Then it was in the shower and freedom to do what he wanted with his morning. Come afternoon, he had to eat his lunch—with all the correct requirements—and then another walk. That walk was the warm-up for their late afternoon workout. After that, it was dinner, whatever he wanted to do with his evening, and bed.

The first two days were okay. He was tender afterwards, but he'd expected that. He and Alex were testing his limits, trying to see what he could and couldn't do right now. They had to see where he was to know what to do to help him grow. And the exercise had provided him with a distraction after having to sit in Scott's office with Scott and Remy and describe the men of his nightmares so they could be drawn on paper. Building up a sweat with Alex had been plenty enough of a distraction for him. On day three—yeah, he walked away hurting, but again, he'd figured it was worth it.

Day four sucked.

Spencer believed in using proper words to describe something. He didn't use slang, despite the teasing it could earn him for speaking so 'high and mighty', as Derek had always liked to say. But he was definitely tempted to use one of Alex's made up words to describe how his day was going. Craptacular sounded like one that would work. That alone told him that he was out of sorts. He _detested_ words like that. However, things had been going wrong from the instant he'd climbed out of bed after a nightmare filled night.

The X-Men had been called out right before bed and Spencer had warned Scott that he better not find the older man in his room come morning time; he needed to sleep in his own bed when he got back from whatever they had to do. Good for Scott, but bad for Spencer. That meant there was no one there when the nightmares struck and woke him up, time and time again. However, he could deal with that. It wouldn't be the first time he'd dealt with his own nightmares and it wouldn't be the last. He could act like an adult and withstand nightmares on his own. It was high time he started doing it, anyways. He had to stop letting Scott baby him.

His morning walks had actually become something he was enjoying, so he'd crawled out of bed and dressed, hoping that the walk in the cooler morning air might be enough to wake him up and improve his mood. As he'd taken to doing, he stopped off in the kitchen and started a pot of coffee before making his way outside. That way, it would be ready for him by the time he got back. Walking and balancing a mug of coffee wasn't exactly in his minimal talents right now.

The walk would have succeeded in calming him—he'd felt himself starting to relax about halfway through—if it hadn't been for the sudden downpour that had hit. How he'd missed it building in the sky, he had absolutely _no_ idea. But by the time he got back up to the house, he was soaked down to the skin and any chance of a good mood was gone.

He didn't give a damn who came and saw him or what anyone had to say. He was going to get his cup of coffee whether anyone liked it or not and then he was going to go to his room and get dry and in clean clothes. Luck was on his side just enough that he was able to get his mug filled and make it all the way to his room without being seen. There he sulked a little, grumbled to himself, showered and dressed in dry clothes, and eventually he laid down to try and nap away some of the foul mood.

When he got up for lunch, he figured that he'd had a horrible morning, so the day couldn't possibly go anywhere but up. There were times he really hated his natural optimism. It was like a direct challenge to the karma of the world. At least, if he believed in things like karma.

He'd failed to time his lunch as well as he usually did, so when he went down to eat, there were actually people around eating. One of them was the Colonel. Because of manners and too many years of being taught to follow orders when this man gave them, Spencer hadn't been able to make himself refuse when Chris had snapped at him to sit down and eat like a civilized person instead of sneaking out, as he'd been trying to do.

Most of Spencer's appetite had vanished. Still, he sat down in his chair and tried to force himself to eat. But how was a person supposed to eat when there was someone nearby that put out feelings of disgust and anger? That wasn't exactly helpful to a meal. Somehow he choked down the little food he'd put on his plate. Part of it was simply the mindset of a boy who had been starving one too many times; you never waste food. It was on his plate and he would not waste it, so he ate it. When he was done, he tried to slip out unnoticed, putting his dish in the cart to the side of the dining room that was made for them. He'd managed to slip out the door and get a few steps away when the door opened and a voice snapped "Off to hide in your room again?"

Spencer froze. For the brief moment that he was facing away from the man, he closed his eyes and indulged in a small grimace. Then he schooled his expression and turned slowly around. "Actually, I was off to get my walking shoes. It's time for my afternoon walk."

Stepping further into the hallway, Chris sneered at him. The man was practically swaggering as he walked. "Afternoon walk? Don't you just sound like some little dandy?" He got about a foot away from Spencer and stopped. "Five days I've been here now and I haven't seen you do anything around this place. Tell me, boy, what exactly are you doing to earn your keep here?"

That hit a nerve and Spencer had to fight hard not to show it. He would not hand Chris an easy weapon to strike him with. No need for him to know how much Spencer hated living off of the charity of others and how hard a time he was having not being a contributing member of the household. It was a discussion he and Scott had had many times when they were up in the wee hours of the morning. But Chris didn't need to know that. Spencer made his face as neutral as possible before he answered him. "At this moment, nothing. Scott simply requests that I work on healing before I try to tackle anything else. When he and Dr. McCoy declare me fit, then I'll be assigned work in the household."

"Assigned work, huh? Like what? Scott told me you're stuck crippled for the rest of your life. What good are you going to be here? Can't even do a damn thing anymore. Not that you ever could. You've always been a runt." The look that went over Chris's face almost made Spencer shiver at the sheer maliciousness of it. "Then again, you've always seemed to be good at one thing."

Even though he knew he'd regret it, Spencer couldn't stop himself from saying "I'm sorry, what?"

"Saw you and Gambit walking around. Flirting with one another. I heard the rumors about him, too. A murderer, responsible for the deaths of a whole group of people. Is that why you like him? Cause he's like you? A murderer. Guess that's how you're earning your keep here, huh? Getting tips from the other resident whore?"

The anger that flared to life inside of Spencer was stronger than he ever remembered feeling while face to face with his father. It coursed inside of him, burning through his veins. Without thought, he looked straight at the man, feeling the temper sizzling on his skin, and he told him "Watch your mouth where it comes to him."

The temper in his voice was enough to have Chris startling. "Excuse me?" He demanded. "What did you just say to me?"

For once, Spencer didn't back down from the warning in Chris's tone. He actually gripped his cane tighter and took a step forward. "You heard me. Say what you will about me; you always have. Most of what you say is right, too. But I refuse to stand here and let you belittle Remy. That man is greater than you can ever hope to be. You don't have even a tenth of the honor and courage that he does."

"How dare you talk to me that way? You will not use that tone of voice with me!"

"Or what?" Spencer demanded. "William isn't here to beat me into submission for you." The implication was there, obvious in Spencer's voice, that Chris had had someone else do what he'd been unable to do. It was a taunt against the man's strength that Spencer hadn't been able to resist making.

He should have known better. He shouldn't have pushed so hard. But temper, when let free to fill him this way, had always been his downfall. The full bodied slap didn't surprise him, but it hurt like hell and was enough to send him into the wall. Just barely did he manage to catch himself so that he wouldn't slide down the wall to the floor. He tasted blood in his mouth. His hands laid flat against the wall, cane down on the ground, as he fought to gain his bearings once more.

A voice interrupted them before anything else could be said or done. The sound of that voice had Spencer closing his eyes and wincing.

"Is there a problem here?"

That voice had never sounded so hard to him before. Usually warm, like a summer breeze, Ororo's voice now sounded as hard and cold as a winter storm. She moved into the hallway like a chill wind, cutting straight into the tension between the men. Spencer stayed where he was, opening his eyes to watch as Chris smiled charmingly at Ororo. "No, no problem. Just a family disagreement." The man said as smoothly as possible.

Not to protect Chris, but to protect Alex and Scott, Spencer made sure his hair hid his face before he said "He's right, Ororo. Just a family disagreement. Everything is perfectly fine." With Ororo there, he felt brave enough to add, "If that's all, Colonel, I'm sure we can continue this later."

"You can believe it." Chris said. His tone was cordial, but the emotions coming off him made Spencer want to shiver. He kept it in check. Staying still, he listened to Chris take his leave of Ororo and then the man was walking away. When his footsteps faded, Spencer breathed out a soft sigh of relief. Then he heard Ororo walk forward.

She bent down, gathering his cane, and then she brought it to him. She stood in front of him with the cane stretched between her hands. "You are a good man, Spencer Reid." She told him softly.

That was enough to tell Spencer exactly how much Ororo had heard of the argument. He sighed and gave up hiding his face from her. One of his hands came up, wiping the blood off his chin, and he let his eyes meet hers. "I'd appreciate it if my brothers were not informed of this."

She stared into his eyes a long moment before finally nodding. "That is your choice." She reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. "I will respect your wishes and I will not tell them of this. But you should, Spencer."

"I won't make them choose between the Colonel and myself." Slightly steadier, he took the cane from her hands and braced it on the floor, taking the first step away from her.

"Why?" She asked him. "Because you do not want them to lose their father, as you have? Or because you are afraid they will not choose you?"

He froze. Pain sliced inside of him at the unerring accuracy of her question. With a deep breath, he started walking once more. "I appreciate you keeping this between us, Ororo. Thank you." He called without ever turning around. "Have a good day." Nothing more was said as he made his way to his room. Once inside, he went to the bathroom and cleaned his face, wiping away the blood and checking the split in his lip. It would swell some, but it wouldn't be too bad.

He made his way to his bed, grabbing a few books along the way. Screw the walk Alex wanted him to take. This afternoon, he would play hooky.

When late afternoon rolled around and Alex showed up, Spencer had his emotions in control once more. Enough so that he didn't flinch when, after letting Alex in, his brother took one look at his face and furiously demanded "Who hit you?"

"It was nothing, Alex." Spencer told him truthfully. He twisted the lock on the door. "Just a minor altercation. It's nothing."

"I don't care! No one gets to hit you but me."

The threat had Spencer rolling his eyes. He made his way to the open space of his room that they used for their 'training'. "Just drop it, Alex. Let's get started." There was something in his words that wasn't quite the demand he wanted it to be. It was more a plea; one that Alex heard clearly and that he had rarely ever heard from Spencer.

After a second, Alex gave in and let it drop, grinning at Spencer instead. He'd let this go—for now. "Eager, huh? Good. Today, we start stepping things up. We're gonna push you today, Spence. You ready for this?"

"As ready as I'll ever be. Let's do this."

* * *

By the time they were done, Spencer could have cheerfully slammed an energy bolt directly into his brother without batting an eye. The only thing that stayed his hand was that he knew that Alex wasn't doing this maliciously—and that his powers didn't harm his brother directly that way. It wasn't like he was enjoying hurting Spencer. No, he was doing this by request and he was only doing what was necessary to assess and train Spencer's muscles. That was enough to keep Spencer from zapping him, but only just barely.

Now that they'd officially stopped, Alex moved toward him, concern on his face. "You want me to help you to the tub, pidge?" He offered him kindly. It was easy to see and feel that Alex was worried for him.

Spencer didn't want to worry Alex any more than he already was. "I'm fine, Alex. I'll go soak and relax a little and be right as rain in no time. Don't worry."

"We pushed you hard today, pidge. I had to see your limits. It's understandable if it hurts. There's no shame in letting me help you out."

"Alex, calm down. I promise, I can handle this. I've had worse and dealt just fine. This is nothing. Now, would you clear out?" Smirking, Spencer forced himself to act as natural as possible, no matter that he could feel the muscle in his leg cramping. "I really don't need my brother stripping me down for a bath, thank you very much."

That got the laugh from Alex that he'd wanted. "All right, all right. I'm out. I'll catch you at dinner, okay?"

"Sure thing." Anything, to get Alex out. He stayed where he was and forced a smile through the goodbyes as Alex finally left the room. Only when he was gone did Spencer give in to the ache and cramp that was slowly growing in his leg. He looked over to where his cane sat on his bed and cursed steadily in his head. Could he make it to the bed? Would his leg support him those four steps it would take him to get there? He doubted it, but he couldn't just stand here forever. One hand pressed over the cramping, aching leg, he tried to walk as carefully as he could.

He didn't even make it the first step.

Their session really _had_ pushed his leg, further than they'd done so far. The muscles now were too stressed, or too weakened, to support anything. He put his weight on that foot and his leg gave out underneath him. The tumble to the ground had him gasping and fighting his hardest not to scream. Jesus. Jesus! That _hurt_!

Gritting his teeth, one hand pressed over the painful part of his thigh, he used his good leg and his free hand to drag himself over the floor. It took more energy than he would've liked to admit to just to drag himself to the foot of the bed. There, he simply leaned against the footboard, hurting too much to even bother trying to climb up to the bed. Maybe he'd just sit a little while and get his bearings back first. A particularly nasty cramp had his eyes slamming shut and his hand locking around his leg. Okay, he'd sit for as long as it took.

That, of course, had to be the time that someone knocked on his door. The emotional signature told him who it was and he had to resist groaning. Really? What the hell was it about Remy that had him showing up at the worst possible moments? He seemed to have a knack for showing up at times that Spencer would have preferred no one see him, let alone the man he was seriously falling for! A small part of him hoped that, if he remained silent, Remy would simply walk away. The rest of him knew better and was already preparing. Sure enough, Remy didn't just knock and leave. He didn't just open the door, though, as Spencer had thought he might. No, he stood on the other side and called out "Spencer? cher…y' let Remy in? Gotta talk to y', me."

Well that sounded anything but good. Spencer adjusted himself better against the footboard, trying to rub at the pain in his leg. As much as he wanted to know what was going on, Spencer knew he wouldn't be up for having a conversation right at the moment. Hell, he'd be lucky to say anything without the pain leaking into his voice. He still had to try. Remy knew he was in here; his words had proved that. To ignore him would have been far ruder than Spencer could bring himself to be. He firmed his voice as best he could and prayed Remy wouldn't hear anything amiss in it. "Now's not the best time, Remy. I'll come find you later, all right?"

His attempt at a normal voice might have worked if the cramping hadn't grown right at the end and caused his voice to catch and tremble from it. That was enough to give him away. A second later his door was opening and Remy's head was poking inside. "Spencer?" It took him just a single instant to spot Spencer on the floor, rubbing at his leg, head resting back against the footboard. Like a flash, Remy was in the room, the door shut behind him, and was hurrying over to Spencer. He dropped down on his knees beside the young genius. "_Dieu_! What happened?"

Even as he was embarrassed at having Remy see him this way, a little glow filled Spencer at the obvious concern. It was always nice to know that the person you liked cared about whether you were hurt or not. Turning his head, he tried to make himself say something flippant, something with humor to make this seem less, but a look at Remy's eyes and he found he couldn't manage it. He swallowed and changed what he had been about to say. "Alex is helping me get back into shape. We had to test how much my leg can handle."

That seemed to actually settle Remy down a little. His expression relaxed some and he offered Spencer a sweet smile. "Well, let's get y' up on de bed to rest instead of down here on de floor, cher." He teased. Fighting the urge to smile, Spencer let Remy slip an arm behind him and he put his arm around the Cajun's shoulders. Remy bore most of his weight as they drew Spencer upright. Pain hit almost the instant his leg was straightened out. Spencer's free hand dropped to the footboard and gripped tightly. He couldn't hold in the pained gasp that tore out.

Remy was steady and gentle as he got Spencer the short distance to the side of the bed. He reached out and pulled the blankets back. But he stopped Spencer before he could sit down. "Y'r gonna be down f' a while, cher. Why don't y' go ahead and get y'r pants off before y' climb in? It'll be a lot easier on y' dis way."

Blush almost instantly filled Spencer's cheeks. "I'm not going to just take my pants off!" he said before he could stop himself.

Laughter filled the room. Remy gave him a squeeze and grinned at him. "Oh, cher, y've got to be de sweetest t'ing. Unless y'r naked under dem slacks, dere aint no big deal about taking em off. Boxers work de same as shorts."

It wasn't just his modesty, though. It was more than that. Spencer was, underneath it all, scared. He was scared at the thought of letting Remy see the scarring on his leg. It wasn't a pretty sight. Would the other man be disgusted when he saw it? Would he turn away? The thought of that was painful. Spencer wasn't sure if he could handle it.

His more serious mood took away the laughter from Remy's lips. The older man pulled him in close, wrapping both arms around him instead of just one. He didn't bother giving Spencer reassurances, or making any promises. He simply said "Take dem off, Spencer." The words were half order, half request. Nothing else was said. The next move had to be Spencer's.

Taking a shuddering breath, Spencer reached his free hand to his stomach, blindly unhooking the belt first. His eyes lifted to Remy's and stayed locked there. This was so much more than just helping him into bed, now. This had suddenly become something much, much more important. Their eyes stayed locked as Spencer undid his belt and then the button and zipper of his slacks. The material slid down to pool at his feet. Still, their eyes stayed locked. Remy's hands moved, settling on Spencer's hips, staying there for a moment before guiding him onto the bed.

He helped Spencer scoot back, settling against the nest of pillows that were always there. Spencer was the one to finally break eye contact. A movement jostled his leg just right and the cramping came back full force, making itself known once more. His hands fisted into the blankets and he dropped his head back, eyes squeezing shut.

A pillow was suddenly being slid underneath Spencer's knee, propping his leg up just slightly and easing some of the pressure. When he heard two soft thumps, Spencer looked up in just enough time to see Remy climb onto the bed, right by his legs, shoes now on the floor. Serious eyes were lifted, locking on to Spencer's face. "Let me help y', Spencer." He said. "_S'il tu plait_. Let me help y'."

He couldn't seem to find words. Was it the pain that had stolen his voice? Or was it the emotion and intensity of Remy's gaze? He didn't know. Did it even matter? Silent, he nodded.

Remy shifted his weight so that he was straddling Spencer's knee, facing toward him. When he reached for Spencer's thigh, the younger man couldn't stop the strangled sound he made or the way that he tensed. He was staring at Remy's face, watching as Remy saw the scarring for the first time. No trace of pity was found, or disgust. All Spencer could feel from the man was sorrow and affection; an affection that ran deeper than Spencer had ever felt from anyone before. Affection was all he could label it as. To give it any other name was more than he was ready for in that moment.

Warm hands pressed against Spencer's skin, just above his knee. There was no hesitation in that touch. That eased Spencer as much as anything else. Hesitation would have hurt as much as disgust would have. As Remy's hands started to rub at his cramping muscles, drawing a quivering sort of gasp from him, the Cajun lifted his eyes once more. "Y'r beautiful, Spencer." The quiet words rang with his sincerity. "Dis doesn't change dat. Y'r beautiful."

The massage was taking some of the sharper pain, that incessant cramping, and was slowly smoothing it away. There was just a breath of Remy's empathy in that touch; not taking away his pain, but helping to ease it, little by little. It gave him enough strength to find his voice once more. "I don't see what you see." He whispered truthfully.

"_Je sais_." _I know_. To Spencer's utter surprise, Remy bent his head, pressing a kiss right over the top of the worst part of the scars. Though that bit of skin was numb, Spencer swore he could feel the heat of that kiss. "_Mais_ y' are beautiful, _mon bijou_." Remy murmured the words against Spencer's skin. "I find m'self wanting to touch y', all de time."

The heat in those words, the emotion Spencer felt behind them, had him shivering. He lifted one hand hesitantly, bringing it to run through Remy's hair. "I have to stop myself sometimes from touching you. It's like it's an automatic reflex, or a deep rooted need. I reach for you without thinking about it."

Remy sat up slowly, his head leaning in to Spencer's hand to make sure he didn't move it. Even as he did, his hands continued their gentle massage, chasing away the ache. Spencer wasn't focused on that, though. He was looking at the emotion in Remy's eyes. The older man's smile was sweet and almost shy. "_Vraiment_?" Really?

Something in Remy's shyness, his obvious happiness at Spencer's words, gave the young doctor a little more bravery than he normally would have had. He smiled at Remy and maintained eye contact, moving his hand to cup a cheek just slightly rough with stubble. "You make everything…brighter. Better. You make _me_ better when you're around."

His words seemed to have rendered Remy speechless. Emotion flashed over Remy's eyes and then he was leaning in and Spence sat up slightly to meet him halfway. The kiss seemed the most perfect thing in that moment. For once, the young genius recognized that words weren't important or necessary. Spencer closed his eyes and sighed into the kiss and let it speak for them both. He felt Remy's hands come up, settling on his arms. Not to push him back, but just to hold on. After they pulled apart, they looked at one another and the air almost crackled with the energy between them.

Remy moved this time, leaning back in, pulling on Spencer's arms to bring him back close. This kiss carried a little more emotion to it; a hint of heat. Thought drained from Spencer's mind. His hands slid from Remy's face to the back of his neck. Whether he fell back or Remy pushed, Spencer had no idea, but he found himself lying back against his pillows once more. This kiss broke only for their fall and then his mouth was captured again. The heat was stronger this time, spreading from their kiss and awakening the nerves along Spencer's body. That heat grew as Remy's body stretched over his, one leg still nestled between his, yet now cradled against somewhere much more intimate.

One of Remy's hands propped him up on the bed while the other slipped to the hem of Spencer's shirt, reaching under slowly at first and then, when he met no resistance, smoothly going to the soft skin of Spencer's side, tracing the curves there. Spencer gasped into their kiss and that was all the invitation Remy seemed to need to slide his tongue in.

Spencer wasn't entirely submissive underneath him. He rolled his hips slightly, grinding himself against Remy's leg and grinding his leg against Remy. This time it was Remy who gasped and moaned. He broke their kiss and stared down at Spencer, the both of them panting. But his hand didn't stop its movements, sliding over Spencer's stomach and up to his chest. When he found Spencer's nipple, he pinched it lightly, rolling it between his fingers and bringing a moan past Spencer's lips.

Spencer dropped his head back and arched into Remy's touch. He'd had enough of just lying there. His hands moved, pushing at the top of Remy's duster. The older man got the hint and sat up just enough to slip it off his shoulders and then down off his arms, tossing it to the side of the bed. How far they were going to take this, neither of them knew. Neither was thinking on it. Spencer felt as if he was drowning in emotion and sensation and he could see the same in Remy's eyes. Not just the physical side of it, but the sensations of lust from one another that were like a drug, adding to their heat.

Hands went on either side of Spencer's head as Remy bent to take his lips again. Spencer arched up to him and let his hands go to Remy's back, clinging for a moment before sliding down. He gave in to the urge he'd had for a while now and let his hands slip low, cupping Remy's backside through his jeans. He used that grip to pull the man's hips down while rolling his own upwards at the same time, creating a delicious friction between them.

Remy broke the kiss on a ragged gasp. "_Dieu_." He breathed out. It was the first word either of them had spoken since this had started. "_Dieu_, Spencer." Dropping his head down, he pressed his lips to Spencer's neck, nuzzling the skin there before nipping lightly. Spencer shuddered out a breath and tipped his chin up. He kept his hands on Remy, keeping up the motion of both their hips, keeping that friction going that was driving them mad. He was hard and aching and it gave him a thrill to feel that Remy was just as hard and was aching just as much. When Remy sucked on his neck, he hummed happily. When the suck turned to a bite, he gasped and his hips jerked at the pleasure of it.

All of a sudden, Spencer felt Remy go utterly still. Every inch of his body seemed to freeze. Instinct had Spencer looking around the room for the threat. Even as he did, he felt the emotions coming off of Remy and his mind was already piecing together what had happened. About the same time he figured it out was when Remy started to curse, long and low.

"You've got to go." Spencer said with a wry grin. Either Jean or the Professor had to have contacted Remy mentally; that meant that most likely there was a mission or something else important.

Remy lifted his weight up onto his hands so that he could look down at Spencer. "_Oui_." He sighed out. Frustration was heavy on his words. "Meet at de jet in ten minutes, Jeannie said." Growling a little, he bent his head, giving Spencer a hard, fast kiss. When they broke apart again, Remy did growl. "_Merde_. Dey got de worst timing."

"No kidding."

Scowling, Remy straightened up, moving his legs so that he was sitting on the bed by Spencer's hips. He bent down, grabbing one of his shoes and yanking it on, grumbling under his breath. Spencer propped himself up on his elbows, watching Remy move. Without the jacket he constantly wore, it allowed Spencer to admire the smooth lines of his body through just a t-shirt. A few moments more and he most likely would've been able to see that body _without_ the shirt. He could've ran his hands over that skin, tracing the dips and curves, finding all those little spots that would make Remy arch or gasp or so many other things.

Spencer's fantasy was cut off when Remy's lips slammed back into his in a rough kiss that instantly brought a moan up from Spencer's throat.

When Remy broke away, lust and frustration were written all over his face and bright in his eyes. "Quit t'inking dat way, cher." He scolded Spencer. Bending, he grabbed his other shoe. "Y' aint making it any easier to walk out dat door."

Instead of being chastened by that, Spencer felt a little proud and pleased with himself. Still, he did say "I'm sorry."

A snort slipped from Remy as he rose to his feet. "Sure y' are. Can really tell dat, what with de smug feeling y' got and dat happy look on y'r face. Y'r incorrigible, y' know dat?"

"You wouldn't have me any other way." Spencer said cheekily. He straightened up and gave Remy his best smile. "Now give me a kiss and get on out of here before you get in trouble."

The corner of Remy's mouth quirked. "Demanding little t'ing, aint y'?" Still, he obediently bent down to give Spencer a kiss. It was meant to be short, but they both found themselves unwilling to break away. Somehow Spencer found himself laying back once more, Remy bending over him. His hands came up to tangle in that beautiful auburn hair. Remy abruptly yanked himself away, cursing and moving toward the door.

Before he got it open, Spencer called out "Remy?" He waited a beat as the man stopped and then he asked "Do you want your jacket?"

"_Merde_." Spinning, Remy hurried back to the bed, snatching his jacket from Spencer's outstretched hand. He looked at the young genius for a moment and the debate on his face was obvious. It brought a happy laugh from Spencer. "Go!" he commanded with a chuckle. "Go on, before you really are late. Time could be of the essence. Go!"

Even after Remy had gone from the room, Spencer's smile stayed in place. Sometimes it was nice to be reminded that you could still be desirable to someone.

* * *

_*Again, that scene above was probably one that some of you might recognize from the Vegas story. Just a bit of it, at least. Sorry if that bothers people! It was another one that I stole for Vegas. :P *_

_Hope you guys liked that one too! Glad you enjoyed the last chapter so much. The Colonel, man, he makes me want to punch him. Augh. Why is he so angry with Spencer? Is it really just because of the circumstances of his birth, like we heard in MTT? Hm. Guess we'll have to wait and see ;)_

_I know this was fast. I really should've waited to post this, because I only have about two chapters left to beta before I'm fully caught up to where I left off. Then updates will come slower as I wrap up the last few chapters of the story. But I coudn't resist putting this up as soon as I finished reading it, lol. So here you go! Thanks for reviewing the last chapter, everyone. You guys really motivate me to keep going. Your last reviews motivated me to actually not just stare at the story and go "Duhhh, what should happen?" and I managed to jot down half an outline for the later chapters. Yay! Tomorrow, I'm planning on starting to fill in those blanks. Sweet. Hopefully, it'll all flow fast. My muse better be here when I need him! Hee hee._


	12. Chapter 12

A few days after his interrupted make-out session with Remy, it was starting to seem to Spencer like there was a conspiracy in the household. All of a sudden it was like no one wanted to allow the two of them to be alone together. Every time they were, someone or something interrupted them. Even when they settled down in the TV room to watch a movie, other people would soon come in to watch with them, ruining the quiet the two were seeking. In a way, it was amusing. But at the same time, it was so frustrating. Things had gone up another level between the two of them and they weren't even given the freedom to explore it or talk about it.

Those long thoughts had Spencer grumbling a little to himself when he went to the kitchen to start his coffee before his morning walk. The very last thing he'd expected to find when he opened the door was Remy sitting on the counter by the already brewing coffee pot, wearing a pleased little smirk. At the sight of Spencer, the Cajun hopped off the counter and made his way over, his smirk growing even more pleased. "_Bonjour_, cher."

Spencer couldn't help but smile back at him. "Morning, Remy."

The older man came and greeted him with a brief kiss. "Thought I might join y' on y'r morning walk, if dat's okay with y'." A mischievous light danced in Remy's eyes. "Don't no one expect dis boy to be up dis early."

A walk in the early morning sun with Remy? Spencer's smile grew a little more. He was so happy with the idea that he didn't even tease Remy about being up this early. He just beamed at him and said "It's perfectly fine with me. I'd love the company."

"_Merci_." Leaning in, Remy gave him another kiss. Then he linked their hands together and the two set off toward the back door to head outside. Surprisingly, though this was the first real chance they'd had to talk alone together in days, neither one of them said a word. It didn't seem the morning for words; not quite yet. The two simply walked together, enjoying the crisp morning air, the slowly rising sun, and the warmth of the person beside them.

* * *

A smile curved Scott's lips as he watched Spencer and Remy through his office window. The two were walking toward the lake together, their fingers intertwined. Even from this distance, Scott could see that neither of them was talking, but both looked perfectly content. There was obvious love between the two. Even as it made Scott smile, it gave him a little pang in his heart.

Warm arms wrapped around Scott's waist from behind, pulling him back into a familiar embrace. Scott sighed and let himself relax into Logan's arms. Here, in the privacy of his office, early enough that no one else should be around, Scott had no problem letting down some of his shields. The low growl of Logan's voice in his ear made his smile grow. "What's wrong, Scotty?"

"Don't call me Scotty." He said reflexively. There was no heat to the words, though. "I was just watching Spence and Remy. They look good together."

"Mmm." Logan made an agreeable sound. "They're good for each other. Why does that make ya sad?"

Scott chuckled and rested his hands over Logan's arms, enjoying the warmth and strength there. "My baby brother's growing up, Lo. I guess I'm just feeling my age or something like that. He's growing up, falling in love, finding his own feet."

"And he doesn't need ya as much as he used to."

As always, Logan had an uncanny knack for cutting to the heart of some things. Scott sighed and didn't even try to deny it. "I know it's ridiculous. He's a grown man and all that. But I've always taken care of him, you know? And now…now Remy's kind of taking over that job. He's been keeping Spence uplifted with Pop being here, and he helps distract him when Spence and Pop actually manage to come in contact with one another. Don't get me wrong; I'm happy for them both. I am. I just…I don't know."

The arms around him moved and then Logan was turning him, pulling him in close. Scott easily slipped his arms around Logan's waist and cuddled in.

One of Logan's hands stroked up and down his back. "He's still gonna need you, darlin. That aint gonna change. No matter what happens, you're always gonna be that strength in his life."

"I don't know." And here, cradled in Logan's arms, it didn't seem so silly to admit to the thoughts he'd been having. "He seems to run to Remy for anything lately. He won't even tell me what happened that gave him that split lip."

"And did ya stop to think past the hurt feelings to figure out _why_ he wouldn't want ya to know?"

That question drew Scott up short. He pulled back just enough that he could look at Logan's face. "He told you what happened."

Logan shook his head. "Nope. But once I stopped and thought about it, it wasn't that hard to figure out. You'll figure it out too if ya just think, darlin. Can't think of many reasons the runt would keep something like that from ya."

"It would have to be to either protect the person who did it, or to protect Alex or me." Scott said slowly. "I asked Alex and Spence hasn't told him either." Now that Logan had put him on this track, Scott followed it, trying to think it through. "Any of the people he'd protect are people I know wouldn't hit him. Him and Warren hate each other, but he wouldn't keep it from Alex if Warren was the one to hit him. That only leaves…" As the thought finished, Scott closed his eyes. That only left one person. Shit. Why hadn't he thought of this earlier? "Pop."

Logan's hands were holding his hips now, keeping him in place as he processed this. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. If Chris had been the one to hit him for whatever reason, Spencer definitely wouldn't tell Scott or Alex. In fact, he'd make a point _not_ to tell them. He wouldn't want to do something to 'come between' the boys and 'their' dad. Spencer always tried to downplay things between him and Chris for whatever reasons. How many times had Scott bit his tongue over something the man said just because Spencer had asked him to? Well, this was different. This was going too far. "I'm going to throw him out of the house." Scott swore softly. Logan knew him well enough to know he literally meant _throw_.

"No, yer not." Logan said firmly. "This is between him and the runt."

Scott opened his eyes to glare at his lover. "It's my baby brother and my Dad. I'm not going to stand aside for this."

"Ya should. He's a grown man and how he chooses to deal with this is his business."

The force of Scott's temper had him yanking away from Logan's grip to pace his office, surprising Logan. Hands clenched into fists, Scott tried to control himself; tried to think of a way to explain this to him. "You don't understand." He told him. Letting out a deep sigh, Scott stopped pacing and turned to look at his partner. "I can't just let it go, Logan. I can't. Don't you see? I've done that too many times where he's concerned. I let it go when we were younger and I saw Pop hurt Spencer's feelings. I let it go when I saw random bruises on Spence and I believed him when he told me it was just from kids at school. I let it go when I saw too many different signs. I've let it go so many damn times and he's been hurt, over and over because of it. If I'd just stepped up and said something, maybe he could have been spared some of that."

Love softened Logan's expression to a look that no one else ever saw. "You can't fix the past, Scooter. And ya can't take the blame for everything."

"Maybe not, but I can do something about the here and now. I won't let something like this happen here, Logan. I can't. I'll keep my cool as best as I can and I'll talk calmly to him first, but I will _not_ tolerate this. Whatever problems he and Spencer have, I won't let someone hit my baby brother, and I won't tolerate fighting in this house. If Pop has a problem with that, I have no problems showing him the door." As he said the words, he knew that he meant them. He would have no problems escorting Chris out the door.

After a second, Logan snorted out a chuckle. Then he moved forward and grabbed Scott's waist, pulling him in for a firm kiss. When they broke apart, he chuckled again. "Kid's gonna flip if he finds out you and Chris had a chat about this." He pointed out.

Scott smirked at his lover. "That implies that I plan on letting him know."

"You gonna tell Alex? Have him with you as backup?"

"Do I look like an idiot?" Scott asked. One eyebrow arched up. "I'd rather not deal with _that_ tantrum, thank you very much."

Logan's warm, deep laughter echoed around the office, pulling another smile from Scott. The two shared another kiss. "I love ya, darlin. Devious mind and all."

"I love you too, Logan."

* * *

The young couple walking the grounds had made their way to the docks near the boathouse. Together, they made their way to the end. Remy offered his arm, bracing Spencer so that he could sit down. Then Remy was sitting beside him, linking their fingers once more. It was peaceful, to sit there. A mite chilly, but peaceful. Almost as if Remy read that thought out of Spencer's head, he scooted sideways, letting go of Spencer's hand so he could wrap an arm around him, pulling him in close. Spencer smiled and laid his head on Remy's shoulder. It was definitely warmer here, and much more comfortable.

They sat that way for a while, enjoying the morning. Remy lit himself a cigarette, smoking lazily. He offered it to Spencer, who smiled at himself as he shook his head. If only his friends could see him now. They wouldn't recognize him at the moment. He looked nothing like the man they'd all grown to know over the years. If anything, he looked more like the teenage him, the one he'd buried deep down inside and covered up with the 'nerd' version of himself. But Spencer didn't think on it for long. He got comfortable and brought up a topic he'd been wondering about. "You never got around to telling me why you stopped by my room the other day. I'd forgotten all about it for a while." Tipping his head, he looked up into Remy's face. "It seemed like it was important."

Remy's other hand came up and his eyes softened. He brought his finger up to trace over Spencer's lips, stroking the spot that had already healed over. "Talked with m' Stormy." He said. "She told me what dat _salaud_ did to y'. Told me what he said dat set y' off."

That made Spencer grimace. Dammit. Why hadn't he thought of this? It honestly hadn't occurred to him that she would go and tell Remy. He was hard pressed to not be annoyed with her for it. "I asked her to keep it from Scott and Alex. I didn't think about her telling you." He sighed out. And that was his mistake. He should have figured that she'd go and tell her 'brother'. "It really wasn't that bad, Rems. A slap in the face isn't that big a deal."

"It's a big deal to me." Remy countered. His hand shifted, knuckles running softly over Spencer's cheek. "Especially when it happened cause y' was sticking up f' me."

"I won't let him talk about you the way he was." To Spencer, it was as simple as that.

Remy closed his eyes for a moment, emotion fluttering across his face. When he opened his eyes once more, the red in them seemed to almost shine slightly. "I don't know how to deal with dis sometimes, _mon bijou_. I don't know how to react when y' say t'ings like dat to me. Y' make me feel like I'm something important. Something worth defending."

Smiling, Spencer lifted enough to press a kiss to Remy's cheek before snuggling in again. "That's because you are." He said simply. He laid his head back against Remy's shoulder, feeling the older man press his cheek to the top of his head. "You're very much worth defending, Remy."

"And so are y'." Remy murmured against his hair.

A startled chuckle slipped past Spencer's lips. "I don't need defending from the Colonel." He said. The idea had him chuckling again. "I've always handled him perfectly fine on my own with a combination of meekness and avoidance. Soon enough he'll finish with his visit and go on back to his life and things here will move on, the same as before. I can tolerate a few uncomfortable meals while he's here because I know, eventually, he'll go home."

"Dat don't make it okay f' him to treat y' dis way while he's here, cher. But," Remy raised his voice slightly, cutting off Spencer's instinctive protest. When he was sure Spencer was going to stay quiet, he kept talking. "I know dat y' aint just gonna open y'r eyes and see t'ings de way I see dem, so f' now, I'll let dis go and move to a happier subject."

"And what subject would that be?"

"When y' talked about meals a second ago, I realized something. Y' and I aint even managed to get away from dis place long enough to go out somewhere, y' know? So, I was t'inking. How would y' like to go out to dinner with me tonight, Spencer?"

"Are you asking me on a date, Remy LeBeau?" Spencer couldn't resist sitting up so that he could look at Remy's face.

The smile Remy wore lit up his eyes. "And if I am?"

"Then I'd have to say yes, I'd love to."

A flash of happiness came from Remy right before he leaned in and kissed him, fast and hard. When they broke apart, both of them were smiling. Remy brought his arm back around Spencer's shoulders, tucking him against his side once more. "Den tonight y' go on and skip dinner with de others, cher. Get y'rself dressed up nice and meet me in de foyer at five thirty and leave de rest up to me."

Watching the wind blow over the lake, Spencer sighed a little and thought to himself that there was no doubt about it. Whether he was ready to admit it or not, he'd fallen for his little red-eyed angel, heart and soul. The thought didn't terrify him as it once might have. Suddenly, the day seemed just a little bit brighter.

* * *

_Just a short chapter today, folks. :)_


	13. Chapter 13

_Warning: May get a little cheesy :P LOL_

* * *

The idea of their date stayed with Spencer through his day. He couldn't help but wonder where Remy was going to take him and what they were going to do. At the same time as feeling so excited for this, he couldn't help the nerves he felt, too. He'd never really, truly been on an actual date before. Oh, sure, he'd gone out. Who hadn't? But those circumstances were vastly different than these ones. As he changed from his day clothes to workout clothes in preparation for his afternoon session with Alex, he mentally corrected his choice of words. This was the first date he'd ever go on with someone he actually wanted to go out with and who actually wanted to be with him longer than the evening.

How on earth was he supposed to act? He knew how to play a part when that role was assigned to him. But this? He had no idea what he was doing! To go out as he'd used to, with a client, that had been easy because it hadn't been important. This was important. He wanted to make a good impression on Remy. He wanted to be able to not only have a good time, but make sure the other man had a good time with him. What if he did something stupid? What if he said or did something wrong?

Alex's arrival cut off Spencer's gloomy thoughts, but only for a bit. Then they were rising back up, nagging in the back of his mind enough that it was distracting him from what he should have been doing. So much so that Alex almost connected a punch to his head before he managed to pull it.

"Dammit, Spence!" His brother snapped at him. He stepped back and straightened up, glaring at him. "What the hell is up with you today? I could've hurt you! I know you know how to block that shot."

Embarrassed, Spencer bit his lip and fiddled with the top of his cane. "I'm sorry." He answered instinctively. "I was distracted. It won't happen again, Alex."

"The hell with that. What's up that's got you so distracted? Until you sort it out, you're gonna be useless for training."

At first, Spencer held his tongue, unsure of what to do. Then a small part of him realized that, surprisingly enough, he actually _wanted_ to open up and tell Alex. Not just Alex either, but Scott too. He was terrified of what was going to happen this evening and so extremely unsure and who better to go to for advice than his two brothers, his absolute two best friends in the whole world? Realizing that gave Spencer the courage to look up and give Alex a half smile. "You think you could call Scotty in for me? I'd actually like to ask both of your advice on this."

Alex looked surprised, but he nodded. Without moving from his spot he pulled out his cellphone and dialed before bringing it up to his ear. "Hey." He said after a pause. "You got some free time, bro? Yeah? Cool. Can you come to Spence's room? Apparently he's got something to ask us…Okay. Okay." He hung the phone up and grinned at Spencer. "Might as well get comfortable. He's on his way."

By the time Scott arrived, Spencer had just settled back against the headboard, pillows behind his back, his bad leg stretched out in front of him. Alex lounged on his back across the foot of the bed, tossing his keys up into the air and catching them, over and over.

"You know…" Scott said teasingly as he shut the door behind him. "Being called to a room, privately, with the two of you waiting…it doesn't exactly make me feel that relaxed."

Alex and Spencer both grinned at him. Snorting, Scott made his way to the bed. "Yeah, that's not helping, guys."

"This is not a sinister plan against our eldest." Spencer said with a smirk.

Rolling his head to look at Spencer, Alex said "But that does sound like a good idea, doesn't it?"

"Mm hmm. Been a while since we've done anything, you know." Spencer added. "We've been awfully well behaved."

"I think so. No jokes."

"No fights."

"Nothing broken."

"No hospital visits."

Dropping onto the bed, Scott held out his hands. "Enough!" He exclaimed. As they fell silent, he shook his head. "God. You two are a menace when you're together. You seem far too bummed out by having not done any of those things. Now, tell me what's up so I can escape before you decide to amend every one of those statements you just made."

Now that the moment was here and both of them were looking at him, Spencer wasn't sure what to say. He had no idea how to phrase his question. Nervous, he did what he always did. He started to babble a bit. "I'm not really sure how exactly to phrase my questions." He admitted to them. "I mean, logically I understand what it is that I need to know. At least, I think I do. And on that same note, I do technically know the answers to my own question. But logic doesn't seem to be factoring in to this equation, which in and of itself makes no sense whatsoever and I just…"

"Woah, woah." Scott reached out and put a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Take a deep breath, Spence."

"Then slow it down a little and try speaking in English." Alex added.

Glaring at Alex, Spencer nonetheless took a deep breath and tried again. _Bluntly this time. Just straight to the point or else you'll ramble again_ he told himself. Okay, here goes nothing. "I have a date tonight." He said quickly. That definitely got their attention. Alex sat up and Scott shifted to better look at Spencer's face. Nervous, the young genius fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "Remy asked me out to dinner with him tonight. I'm to be ready by five thirty."

"That's wonderful." Scott said with a smile. "Spence, honey, I'm happy for you."

Alex was the one to speak bluntly; not surprisingly. "So what's the big question that has you all jittery?"

"I don't know what I'm doing!" Spencer blurted out suddenly. Chewing on his lip, he looked back down at his lap, embarrassed by his exclamation. "I have no idea what to do on a date. You guys know me! Socially, I'm one of the most awkward people. I don't want this to end up some uncomfortable night where I end up making an utter fool of myself. I have no idea how to act on a date!"

Again, it was Alex who asked the question both he and Scott were thinking. "Pidge…haven't you been on a date before?"

Flushing, Spencer shrugged, avoiding looking at them. "Not a real one." He mumbled. At his answer, he could feel their confusion and he knew what they'd ask before either one of them said it. His blush getting deeper, he closed his eyes and spoke, answering their questions before they could ask. "The only dates I went on were…they weren't _real_. Those kinds of dates are easy. I just…played a role. But I never…I never really wanted to go out with anyone seriously before. If I messed up at those, I just…lost some cash. If I mess up at this…" he sighed softly. "I don't want to mess this up."

For a long moment the room was quiet. Spencer had deliberately put his shields up as he'd spoke so he wouldn't have to feel their reactions to what he'd said. But that meant that he had to wait now for them to say something. Anything.

This time it was Scott who spoke up. His voice was slightly husky. "You're not gonna mess this up, honey. Remy likes you, social awkwardness and all."

Reaching out, Alex put a hand on Spencer's ankle. "Don't think of it like a first date, pidge. You and Remy, you've really been dating a while now. This isn't your first date; it's just your first time going _out_ for your date. That means that you don't have to worry about the typical first date issues people have."

"He's right." Scott agreed. "You don't have to worry about getting to know him, or finding out if you're compatible. You two already figured that out."

Spencer shifted his weight a little and grimaced. "But what if I do something stupid? What if I start rambling, or I miss some social cue that everyone else in the world sees, or something else like that?"

"How would that be any different than normal?" Alex asked. When Spencer threw a pillow at him, he laughed and grabbed it, using it to lean sideways on. "Seriously, Spence. I wasn't being an ass. You ramble all the time and you're constantly missing social cues. If he hasn't noticed that about you already then he's obviously blind, deaf and dumb."

Scott rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, despite knowing they couldn't see it, and he moved as well so he could settle against the mound of pillows beside his baby brother. "He has a point, despite how he phrased it." Smiling, Scott reached up and tugged on a lock of Spencer's hair. "I've seen you ramble at Remy before for a good fifteen minutes straight and the man just sat and smiled and listened. Obviously it's not something that bothers him. He likes you for you."

They had a valid point. It wasn't as if he and Remy had never met before this date. Remy had seen him at some of his worst moments, some of his most awkward, and still he stuck around. It wasn't like he didn't know what he was getting himself into when it came to Spencer. "You're both right." He said finally. "I guess I'm just…"

"You're nervous." Alex supplied. His grin had softened slightly. "You're about to go on your first real date with someone important and you're nervous. It's normal." Snorting, he reached out and smacked Spencer's calf. "Look at that, pidge. For the first time in your life, you're doing something _normal_. Who would've thought, eh?"

Spencer glared at Alex and pushed his foot out, kicking his thigh before Alex moved away. "Quit trying to imply I'm abnormal, Alexander."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was I _implying_ that? I meant to say it outright."

"The both of you are abnormal." Scott interjected before they could progress any further in their argument.

Rolling his eyes, Alex settled back on his pillow. "This coming from the man who shoots lasers from his eyes."

This time, it was Scott who kicked out. His foot caught Alex in the chest, making him grunt, which made both Scott and Spencer grin. Smirking, Scott said. "They're not lasers."

"Oh, my bad. _Optic blasts_." He said the words with a sneer. "But at least it's better than Dr. House and his walking Taser act over there."

"Hey!" Spencer crossed his arms and glared. "At least _I_ don't have to wear anything special because of my powers, unlike the two of you."

The only warning he had was one look between his two older brothers. That wasn't enough time for him to do anything. Before he could so much as think about moving, the two were on him. Spencer's laughter echoed off the walls of his room as two sets of hands mercilessly tickled him. He squirmed around the bed, trying to find a way to get free from them, unable to keep from laughing the entire time. Eventually he managed to get himself twisted just right that he could shove, sending Scott off the bed to land with a satisfying thump on the ground. Then he twisted in Alex's hands, latching on and trying to pin him down to the bed. More laughter bubbled out when Scott stood up and didn't hesitate to dive right back into the fray.

Fifteen minutes, one split lip, one black eye, and multiple bruises later, the three men were sprawled out on Spencer's floor, slightly breathless but all of them smiling.

"Well." Scott breathed out. "I think it's safe to say that your leg hasn't affected your wrestling abilities."

Without rising from the ground, Alex and Spencer both held up their fists, reaching over Scott to bump them together in a move Alex had just recently taught to Spencer. Spencer let his hand flop back down and closed his eyes so that the lights above him wouldn't irritate his eyes. "Alex has been helping me train every day."

"Yep. And he's getting better and better."

Scott chuckled, shaking his head. "Thank you, captain obvious." He taunted as he sat up. One of his hands came up to wipe at the split in his lip that was still bleeding. "Dammit, you assholes. How am I supposed to act as a role model for other people when I've got a fat lip from you two knuckleheads?"

Alex ran fingers over his eye, wincing slightly. "At least you won't be the one with the shiner. Fuck, Spence. You got the boniest elbows!"

"Mm." Spencer made a soft humming sound and sat up as well, scooting just enough to rest his back against the bed. "Funny. I don't seem to be having the problems you two are."

Quick as a flash, Alex darted forward, putting Spencer in a headlock. He ran his knuckles over the top of Spencer's head, laughing as the young genius tried to break free. "We couldn't mar up that pretty boy face before your _date_." He teased before letting go. Spencer scowled up at him as Alex got to his feet. With a shake of his head, Scott stood up as well, only wincing a little bit. He held a hand out to Spencer, who stared for a second before taking it. He had to brace one hand on the bed and still Scott had to mostly pull him up. Damn leg.

Once he was on his feet, Alex was handing him his cane. Then, to Spencer's surprise, the man practically started shoving him toward the bathroom. "Go on and hop in the tub." Alex commanded him. "We just did a workout, basically, and you need to relax your leg if you're going to be on it tonight. While you do that, Scooter and I are gonna raid your closet."

"Raid my closet?" Spencer stopped at the bathroom doorway, giving them a bemused look. "What on earth for?"

Scott crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "We've got to see what kind of clothes you've got, Spence."

"Yeah, cause I know you don't have all your stuff here yet." Alex agreed. "We have to make sure you have something decent to wear tonight."

"He's right. You've got to look your best on your first official date."

"And after that, we'll sit you down and give you some do's and don'ts of dating. Little tips and tricks to make the night a little easier." Alex said. His grin grew a little wider. "By the time we're done, you won't even have to worry about being nervous, pidge. Now, go get in the tub! We've only got a few hours to work with here!"

For a single moment Spencer could only stare at them. There was a warm feeling in him that was growing and growing. This hadn't been what he'd expected at all when he'd called them in. He'd thought maybe he'd get some advice, some little tips or something. This was more than what he'd expected. He gave them that crooked grin they all shared, his cheeks heating slightly. "Thanks, guys." Then, before they could say anything else, he turned and went into the bathroom to draw his bath.

* * *

At five twenty five, Spencer was making his way nervously from his room. He'd spent the past few hours with his brothers, getting himself ready for this. Maybe that sounded silly to others but it had been perfect for Spencer. They had been exactly what he'd needed to keep calm enough to make it until it was time to go. Not only that, but they'd helped ease some of his fears, advising him on potential trouble that could crop up on a date and how to avoid it. They'd also dressed him. That, Spencer hadn't felt he'd needed help on. Yet somehow he'd found himself sitting on his bed as they laid out what they wanted him to wear. Apparently none of his pants were satisfactory, because Scott had gone and gotten an old pair of his jeans for Spencer to wear. Any of his commentary on them suddenly turning from brothers into sisters had only earned him head slaps.

Thanks to them, Spencer was dressed in dark black jeans, more form fitting than any he'd typically owned. He wore his own shirt, thankfully, a dark purple long sleeved button up that JJ had bought him a long time ago. She claimed it set off his eyes—at least, when he wasn't wearing the contacts that turned his eyes brown instead of their usual purple/blue/pink coloring. Over that, Alex had made him put on a black silk vest, but they'd all agreed not to go with a tie. If anything, the clothes actually made Spencer more comfortable. He'd worn his button ups here as well as the occasional cardigan, but he hadn't really dressed up this way in a while. This was how he went to work; at least, minus the tight jeans. Usually he just wore slacks. But he could deal with the jeans. He'd worn the like before. In a way, his brothers had made sure that he looked nice while at the same time giving him the comfort of dressing like himself. Though they had been irritated to find he owned absolutely no shoes at the moment except for his Chucks, and neither of them had shoes that fit him.

Spencer smiled in amusement at himself and his brothers. Who would've thought that three grown men would have spent hours holed up inside of a bedroom to prepare one of them for a date? Wasn't that typically a female thing to do? He didn't really care. It had been exactly what he'd needed. They'd all exchanged stories, jokes, occasional scuffles, surprisingly a few hands of poker as well, and all around good humor.

That smile was still curving his lips as he came out at the top of the stairs and carefully started to make his way down. His eyes looked downward and easily spotted Remy standing near the front door, waiting for him. One look and he almost made a fool of himself by tripping. Just barely he managed to catch his step, hopefully before Remy noticed. Spencer believed in using descriptive words and prided himself in being very articulate. Looking at the man waiting for him, the only word that came to mind was _Damn_.

Black leather pants looked almost as if they'd been painted on to Remy's body. The red shirt he had on was long sleeved, buttoning up the front just like Spencer's, but he wore his without a vest. His auburn hair was pulled back into a braid. Over one arm he had a black trench coat draped, as well as Spencer's jacket, and he was just settling a black fedora on his head, which sported a red band that matched his shirt. All in all, Spencer had to say that the man looked, well…_damn_.

The sound of his cane drew Remy's attention toward the stairs. The man turned, his face lighting up with a smile so bright, it had Spencer's smile growing in return. "_Bonsoir, mon chér_." He moved toward the stairs, extending his hand right as Spencer reached the bottom. A light flush filled Spencer's cheeks when Remy took his hand and leaned in, kissing his cheek. "_Tu es envoutante_."

"Thanks." And looking at those familiar eyes, Spencer couldn't help but relax. That relaxation made it easier to smile and flirt back, looking Remy up and down before telling him "You look positively sinful tonight, Rems."

"_Merci beaucoup_." With an impish smile, Remy let go of his hand and stepped to the side, holding his arm out. "Shall we?" He said formally.

With a shake of his head and a warm chuckle, Spencer took Remy's arm. Together, the two made their way out the door.

From their spot in the hallway, Scott and Alex watched the two leave. They'd snuck down here to be able to watch their baby brother leaving for his first official date. Once the door was shut, Alex leaned against the wall and grinned. "Well, I think we can call it official between them now." He said. "I've never seen pidge be so happy around someone before."

"He and Remy are good for one another." Scott said softly. Smiling, he looked back over to the door where they'd just left. "They understand one another in ways other people won't. And them both being empaths helps."

"It's about time he gets to be happy. He deserves it."

"Who deserves what?" Another voice joined their conversation.

Looking over, the two boys saw Chris walking toward them, smiling the trademark Summers smile. Scott felt his temper flare just underneath the surface. The conversation he'd had with Logan that morning came back to him and he was hard pressed to keep from laying into Chris right then and there. The only thing that restrained him was Alex's presence. The last thing he wanted was to do this in front of Alex. Out of the three brothers, Alex was the most volatile. His temper exploded easier than either of his brothers'.

Unaware of Scott's growing anger, Alex smiled over at Chris. "Spencer deserves happiness." He told their Dad. "He just left on a date with Remy."

The disgust and anger that flashed in and out of Chris's eyes was only there for a moment, but Scott saw it. He gritted his teeth and clamped down on his temper. "Hey, Pop, do you have a minute?" His voice was level and his spine stiff as he looked over at his dad. Chris raised one eyebrow curiously when he looked over at his oldest son. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. Why don't we step down in my office for a minute?" Moving forward, Scott looked to Alex. "I'll find you in a little while, okay? We can wait for him to get home together."

Alex looked back and forth between Scott and Chris. "What's going on?"

"Everything's fine, Alex. I just need to talk to Pop for a minute, that's all." Scott tried to reassure him.

It didn't work very well. Alex straightened from the wall and glared right at Scott. "Bull, Scott. We're brothers. If there's something going on, you don't get to keep me out of it. Family doesn't do that shit. Now, what the hell is going on?"

One look at Alex's face and Scott knew that he wasn't going to be able to keep him from this. If he tried, Alex would just find a way to come and listen in anyways. Better to just bring him in and deal with the fallout in there. At least then he'd have a better chance of containing Alex's temper and calming him down before he was let loose on the rest of the house. Scott fought the urge to bring a hand up and rub at his temples. Already he could feel a monumental headache brewing. "Fine." He sighed. Without looking at either one of them, he turned and made his way to his office, trusting they'd follow.

The first place Scott went to was his bar. He poured himself a drink and took it with him as he moved over to his desk. Chris stood in the middle of the room, looking to Scott cautiously. Alex came in last, shutting the door behind him before making his way over to the bar to help himself.

"What's going on, son?" Chris broke the silence. "Has something happened? Are you all right?"

All day long he'd been trying to think of how he wanted to do this. Now that the moment was here, all his carefully laid out speeches were forgotten. He looked at the face of his father and found himself having to fight to keep from throwing a punch. That strained control made his voice harder when he finally spoke. "Some things were brought to my attention this morning that I felt the need to address." His hand tightened around his glass so much that he was surprised it didn't shatter. "Let me make myself clear on this, Pop. You ever assault anyone here again without just cause and I will not hesitate to have you removed from the property. Do you understand me?"

From the side of the room, Alex almost dropped his glass, just barely managing to keep a grip on it as he spun to look at them. His surprise was nothing compared to Chris's. The man took a step back as if he'd been struck, eyes going wide and mouth dropping open. "Excuse me?"

"Don't play games with me." To try and give himself a moment to calm down, Scott lifted his glass and slammed back what was in there. The burn was a nice distraction, yet it didn't take away his temper. He set the glass down on his desk to avoid the temptation of throwing it. Jaw set, he made himself look at Chris once more. "You know exactly who and what I'm talking about."

The surprise on Chris's face slowly faded away as realization took its place. Then came his own temper. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leveled a glare at Scott. "No matter how old you get, Scott Summers, you are still my son. I will not tolerate this tone from you."

"Wait a minute." Reminding them of his presence, Alex held a hand out, walking toward the two of them. His glass was long forgotten in his other hand. "Wait just a minute. Are you saying that Pop's the one that hit Spence?" The words were delivered in Alex's usual blunt manner. He was never one to mince his words, even with their father.

Scott took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Then he said the only thing he could. Just one simple word. "Yes."

Even as Alex was spinning toward him, Chris was already on the defensive. "I am still the father here." He snapped at the two of them. "And how I choose to deal with or discipline any of you boys is not for you to question."

The room fell silent when Scott snapped out "Fuck that!" He straightened up from the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. Chris and Alex were still in shock, staring at him. Never had Scott openly swore at Chris like that before. It shocked them enough that Scott had plenty of time to make his point before anyone regained their voices. "You have absolutely no claim on disciplining Spencer. You gave up that right the day you shoved him off on Diana and that asshole she's married to. If there's anyone that could lay claim to that right, it would be me, as I've been the only true parental figure he's had, and I've never once disciplined him for something by striking him. We've fought, yes, but I've never hit him as a punishment for a wrongdoing. Behavior like that isn't tolerated in this house."

"So let me get this straight." Chris demanded. "Because you still seem to have this insane need to shelter the boy, that means that I'm supposed to stand there and let him disrespect me? That I'm supposed to allow him to speak to me the way he was?"

Alex snorted softly and hooked his hands in his pockets. "Spence can barely manage to say 'boo' to you, Pop. I find it hard to believe that he'd say something so nasty it deserves being hit in the face for it."

Before any of this could progress any further, Scott held his hands out in a bid for silence. "I'm not here to discuss who said what or the reasons behind them." He said firmly. There was an air of command in his voice that surprised his father but had Alex falling silent. It was a tone that Alex was familiar with. One that Scott used when he was done debating something and he was going to make one last point before dropping the subject entirely. When Scott was sure he had their attention, he continued. "No matter what was said, violence is not the answer. Fighting is prohibited anywhere but in the Danger Room. The next time you want to go a few rounds with anyone, Pop, you take it to the Danger Room. And if I hear of you striking Spencer again, there better be one hell of a good reason or I will personally escort you off the property and you won't be allowed back." The look he gave Chris let the man know exactly how serious he was.

Chris stood there and gaped at him. "You'd choose that, that little piece of _filth_ over your own father?"

One of Scott's hands shot out toward Alex, gesturing for him to stop just as the man had started to step forward, expression furious, mouth open to speak. Scott didn't even look at him. He kept his stare locked on his father. "I love you, Pop. Nothing is ever going to change that. But I refuse to stand aside and let you hurt him. If you feel I'm choosing between you, so be it."

"I am your _father_!"

"And he's my brother." Scott said simply. "No matter that you've denied him from day one. Neither Alex nor I have and we never will. And just as I would for Alex, I'm looking out for Spencer, even against you. As the eldest, it's my duty. Don't push my hand on this, Pop. Don't test me."

Fury and hurt seemed to war together on Chris's face as he looked from one son to the other. It was as if he couldn't believe that they would do this to him. He looked to Alex almost as if he hoped his other son would be more reasonable about this. Silent, Alex moved over to stand by Scott, showing exactly whose side he was on without saying a word. That was the final straw for Chris. "It's good for a father to know where he lays with his own children." He said scathingly. Uncrossing his arms, he turned away from them. "I'll pack my bags in the morning and be out by the afternoon."

The guilt that Scott felt wasn't enough to change his mind. "That's your choice, Pop. You're more than welcome to stay, so long as you keep your hands to yourself."

"I'll come say goodbye before I leave." Chris said stiffly. Without another word, he made his way from the office.

When the door slammed shut behind him, Scott winced. He finally gave in to the headache nagging at him and brought a hand up, rubbing at his temple. He sat back against his desk once more with a heavy sigh. "Well, that went well."

Alex moved to sit beside him, bumping their shoulders together. "You really meant it, didn't you?" he asked softly.

Surprised, Scott looked up. He found Alex watching him with a quiet and sober expression that usually wasn't on his face. "Yes." Scott answered.

A smile curved Alex's lips and he bumped their shoulders together once more. "You're a good big brother, Scott."

Some of Scott's headache faded to the back for a moment and he found himself smiling back at him. Lifting his arm, he slung it around Alex's shoulders. "You're a pretty good kid brother." He pulled, fake choking him only for a second. "Most of the time."

* * *

_I hope you guys liked this. I know that things might seem a little slow right now. Ugh. But I promise, they'll start to pick up shortly. Next chapter is their date and the chapter after that, the other parts of the story come back into play and some stuff is going to start coming to the surface. About time, right? :D_

_IntoTheWilds: Since you were thrilled that they know about Chris hitting him, I hope you like the way Scott handled it :D Don't worry! You said you hope to see Spencer resolve it and I promise, he'll get his say in later :D Promise! :D_

_BSmusicprincess: I know, they are cute together. S/R are just the ship of my dreams, lmao_

_ 4: Your review said you hoped Scott kicks him out of the mansion-I hope this works just as well ;) The date is the next chapter and I'm hoping you like it. I have to say, I love your reviews. They always seem to have suggestions and ideas that make me go 'hmmm' and start to plot, lol. You motivate my muse, who in turn motivates me :D Always a bonus! So, thank you so very much!_

_Keep up the reviews, my lovelies! You're all fantastic and you really keep me going on this story. You've helped me to keep from slacking off the way I usually do. OLF took me FOREVER to write, and poor ALSS has been waiting and waiting for updates :P_


	14. Chapter 14

The whole way in to town, Remy had been awfully close-mouthed about their destination. Nothing Spencer said would convince him to give up the secret of where they were going. Amused, Spencer sat back in his seat and decided to simply enjoy the car ride. He still tried to ask little questions and get some kind of hint as to where they were going, but mostly that was for the fun of trying to outwit the Cajun and not for any real obsessive need to know where they were going. He was content to trust himself over to Remy for the night. Remy seemed to understand the game Spencer was playing and was a willing participant to it.

Their good humor stayed with them the whole ride. Earlier, Spencer had worried that things might be awkward or that conversation might be difficult. So far, neither had happened. It was just as easy to talk to Remy as it had been from the beginning. There was just something about the other man that made him so easy to be around. Time flew by and before he knew it, they were slowing down and Spencer realized that they'd been in the car for almost an hour now.

He looked up around him and saw that they'd pulled up at a pier. Spencer looked out at the ships docked there, his lips curving as he watched them. The car slowly parked and Spencer felt a little hint of nerves from Remy. His smile wide, Spencer turned to look at the other man. "Are you taking me on a ship?"

The obvious happiness on Spencer's face was easy for Remy to see and took the edge off of his nerves. His eyes lit up in the semi-dark of the car and his lips curved. "A dinner cruise, _mon bijou_."

Spencer leaned in and pressed a quick, hard kiss to Remy's lips. When he pulled back he winked at him. "Well, come on then. Let's go."

The two climbed from the car, pulling their coats on in the slight breeze of the night. Remy pocketed his keys and came around the car. This time, instead of offering Spencer his arm, he slid his hand into the curve of Spencer's arm, taking the younger man's. Spencer smiled and curved his arm slightly. This was one thing that he loved about Remy and one thing that amused him at the same time. There was no defined dominant or submissive personality between them. No 'man' or 'woman' roles. More, they alternated to suit the situation or their moods, even. When they were together, they didn't really have roles. They were just…them.

Together they made their way to one of the piers. As they waited in line, Remy pulled out a pair of sunglasses, discreetly sliding them on and hiding his eyes. That was the only downside to the night. Remy must have caught Spencer's slight frustration because he turned to look at him. "What is it?"

Spencer looked at Remy's sunglasses and wrinkled his nose for a second before smoothing his expression back out. "I hate that you have to wear those." He commented softly.

"Probably as much as I hate de contacts y' wear, cher." Remy returned. He brought his free hand up to stroke down Spencer's cheek, one finger tracing underneath an eye that did, indeed, have said contact in. It was safer that way when out in public. "De brown is okay, but I like watching de sparks dat dance in y'r eyes. I like de pretty colors dat are dere."

A voice interrupted their conversation. "Tickets, please."

Remy turned to deal with the man while Spencer took a moment to look around. His excitement grew as he and Remy made their way onto the ship. They were greeted by a man in a suit that bowed slightly and gestured to his side. "Right this way, gentlemen."

The man escorted them to the dining hall and down toward the end where the more private tables were. When they reached a table near a window, mostly secluded from the others, the man stopped. Remy stepped up and pulled out a chair, flashing a wink at Spencer over the top of his shades. The young doctor couldn't help but chuckle as he took his seat, hooking his cane to the back of his chair. While he took off his coat, he watched Remy do the same.

Once they were both seated, drinks were ordered. Spencer sat back in his seat and smiled over at his companion. Remy had taken his hat off now that he was sitting at the table, his manners showing through. Spencer found himself smiling just slightly. Really, Remy was an easy man to watch. Not only was he stunningly attractive, but he was confident in his looks without being conceited about it, somehow making him even more attractive. _How on earth did I get so lucky_? Spencer couldn't help but wonder. And he truly felt as if he'd gotten lucky in having Remy come into his life. Who would've thought that such a horrible moment would have brought about something so great? So many things had changed in his life lately. He couldn't help but wonder if he would change what had happened to him, take it all back, if it meant that he wouldn't have met this amazing man across from him? If it meant that he wouldn't be here right now, would he change anything?

The answer barely even took any thought. No; no he wouldn't. He'd change nothing. This right here, what he felt for Remy and what he could feel that Remy felt for him, was something he'd wanted for so long. Nothing would make him give it up. Aside from his brothers and his mom, he had never found anything in his life that was so important.

Abruptly he realized that he'd been staring. He blinked, bringing himself out of his thoughts and back to the present moment. Remy was just sitting there, arms resting on the table, sunglasses slid down his nose just enough that Spencer could see his eyes, and a little smile curving his lips. He didn't look uncomfortable with the scrutiny. If anything, he looked a little pleased. "What y' t'inking about over dere dat's got y' smiling like dat,_ mon chéri_?" he asked.

"I was thinking how lucky I am to have met you, Remy LeBeau." Spencer said honestly. "And I was thinking that some horrible things have happened lately, but I wouldn't change them for the world. It was because of them I was afforded the opportunity to get to know you."

It was endearing to see the slight blush coloring Remy's cheeks. He chewed on his lip in a gesture he'd picked up from Spencer before saying "Y'r de best t'ing dat's happened to me, Spencer. And I'm thankful every day dat y'r a part of m' life."

Though he'd never been the most tactile person, it seemed natural to do with Remy. He reached a hand out over the table, taking hold of Remy's and just letting their fingers lace together and rest on the table. The young couple shared a smile as a waiter came over with their drinks. Once the drinks were served, Remy picked up his glass and shifted in his seat to get more comfortable, never letting go of Spencer's hand. "So, I take it y' like to sail?"

"I've actually never been on a boat for anything that wasn't work related." He chuckled at himself. "I would've been able to go on one when I was seven, but Alex had a mild panic attack and was convinced we'd sink and be eaten by sharks, so we spent the day at the beach instead."

That made Remy chuckle. "Do y' realize how much ammo y' hand me on y'r _frères _and how hard it is to _not_ use it against dem?"

"Why wouldn't you use it? I mean, there are obvious things that shouldn't be repeated. But please, feel free to tease Alex about his fear of sailing. Or tease Scott about that summer of the prank war that he spent with pink hair."

At the words 'pink hair', Remy let out a rich laugh. He set his glass down and leaned forward on the table, cupping Spencer's hand between both of his. "Now dat sounds like it's got a story behind it, cher. Y' gotta share dis. What was dis 'summer of de prank war'?"

Spencer took a sip off his wine and slanted an amused look at Remy. "I was spending my summer vacation with them and the three of us were rather…bored with things. The Colonel wasn't home much, so mostly it was just us three. And Alex and I started playing pranks on one another." He set his glass down on the table, chuckling a little. "I was winning and Alex was irritated at being outsmarted by his baby brother, so, to keep from turning it into a full scale fight, we decided to combine our minds and go after our Eldest. The very first thing I did was make a batch of permanent hair dye. It took me about, oh, a week to perfect my formula. I wanted just the right shade of pink, you know, and I had to know that it would work right with his hair, which meant I had to cut a sample without him noticing. And I had to figure out how to get it to bind to his hair without permanently dying his hands as well. But, I figured it out and we put it into his shampoo bottle."

"Oh, _Dieu_. I bet he was furious with y'!"

The memory of that had Spencer's grin growing. "He was." He said happily. "But you should've seen him. Alex and I were hiding downstairs when he bellowed our names. He came flying out with almost neon pink hair, wearing only his boxers. Alex and I ran, of course, and hid out in the tree house in the backyard. Scott started taking out branches with his blasts to try and knock it down when our neighbor Missy showed up to check on us. We were still hidden and there Scott was, only in his boxers, bright pink hair. We told him we wanted it to match his glasses."

Remy's eyes were twinkling and his laughter made Spencer's smile grow. "And so dat started de prank war?"

"Exactly. Scott swore he'd get even."

As other passengers finished boarding and the ship finally set sail, Spencer kept Remy laughing as he told him tales from that summer. Conversation flowed, moving to pranks that had been played at the mansion in the time Remy had been there. He told of the pranks that Bobby had played on people and the pranks that he, Remy, had played, but had happily allowed Bobby to take the blame for.

They talked almost constantly, smiling and laughing as dinner was ordered and even as it was served. Spencer forgot all about his worries on being nervous or messing things up. As he always did, he lost himself in conversation with this man, barely noticing the time passing. He was too caught up in the words exchanged between them; in the way that Remy's face would light up when he'd laugh over something; in listening to stories that he had a feeling no one else had ever heard Remy tell before.

When dinner was eaten, Remy surprised him by rising from the table. "Would y' care to join me out on de deck, cher? De night looks to be beautiful."

"I'd love that."

After rising to his feet, he let Remy help him into his coat. Then he took his cane and followed Remy out of the dining room, passing by other happy couples. Once they were out on the deck, there was more space for them and Remy was free to walk beside him. Instead of linking arms this time, he slid his arm around Spencer's waist. In turn, Spencer did the same. They got a few strange looks from random couples that they passed, but for the most part no one really paid any attention to them. And they paid no attention to the others, either. This was a night for them.

The air had a cool, crisp feeling to it, with that sharpness that came from blowing over the water. For once, neither minded. It allowed them to cuddle in a little closer to each other as they silently made their way to the bow of the ship. They stopped by the railing, eyes turned toward the city lights around them. It really was a beautiful sight to see. The night itself was beautiful.

Remy moved so that he was standing behind Spencer, both arms wrapped around his waist, his chin resting on Spencer's shoulder. The young genius smiled and leaned back a little into that embrace. Held comfortably and securely in Remy's arms, he watched the sights go past. "I've always loved how a city looks at night." Spencer murmured. It seemed a night for soft voices.

A soft hum sounded by his ear. "Me too. Always loved de lights and de life y' find at night. Dere's a beauty dere dat not everyone can see."

"That's one thing I always loved about Vegas. I love walking around at night when all the lights are on and people are coming or going or just wandering. It's loud and bright and people are noisy and rude and I love it." Memories of home had him sighing almost wistfully. No matter where he went, Vegas would always be a home to him. "There are places there that are great for quiet moments, too. It's not all sequins and bright lights. The desert is beautiful in its own way."

"I've only been dere a few times. Once f' de work I was doing at de time and another with some friend to hit de casinos. Never really saw much else."

Turning his head, Spencer kissed Remy's cheek. "I'll take you there sometime and show you the sights."

Remy gave him a soft little squeeze. "I'd like dat."

For a little while they stayed silent, watching the sights and enjoying each other's company. Though they said not a word, their emotions seemed to be speaking for them. They were keeping mostly shielded so that they wouldn't be subjected to the emotions of the other passengers, but each man was beginning to discover that it was getting easier and easier to pick up on each other, no matter who else was around. It was like a link was starting to forge slowly between them. Spencer was loving it. Standing in the night, watching the beautiful lights around him, not only was he wrapped in Remy's arms, cradled against his warmth, but he was wrapped in the man's emotions as well. Happiness, warm against him. Contentment. A hint of lust, like liquid heat. And something else; something that had Spencer slowly turning in Remy's arms.

He turned so that they were chest to chest, Remy's arms still holding him. Lifting one hand, he took hold of Remy's sunglasses, taking them off his face. For this moment he needed to see his eyes. He linked his hands behind Remy's neck, his cane dangling down the man's back, and he cocked his head, their eyes locked. That emotion he felt from him was slowly overpowering the others. Spencer felt it and couldn't help but bask in it. He knew what it was and it was something he hadn't dared hope for. Yet, there was no denying it. Not for an empath. It was love.

Spencer looked at the man that had come to mean the world to him. A person he found himself wanting to see, every day. Someone who made him smile. Who didn't run away when he was sad or angry. Someone that not only put up with his quirks, but seemed to enjoy them. Someone that made his heart flutter at the sight of him and who made him feel like, for the first time in his life, he might actually be whole.

He wasn't the only one with scars, though. Remy had his fair share of them. Too many times he'd been burned by people who were supposed to care for him. Spencer had heard stories from Scott and Logan and he'd heard them from Remy now as well. He knew that, when it came to relationships, Remy was actually slightly more skittish in some ways than Spencer was. That was another area they complimented one another on. Where Remy was afraid, Spencer could step in and be the strong one. Where Spencer was afraid, Remy had his strength to hold them up. Instinctively Spencer knew that this was one of those moments where he would have to take that first step. He would have to make himself vulnerable first. Surprisingly, he wasn't afraid.

A smile started to tug at the corners of his lips. Spencer let the love he felt for this man fill him, knowing that Remy would feel it in return. Then he leaned in, kissing him softly, sweetly, putting all the emotion he felt into that kiss. When they pulled apart, Remy's eyes were wide and full of emotion and Spencer found it so easy to say the three words that would change everything. He slipped one hand from behind Remy's neck, moving it forward to cup his cheek, his thumb stroking over that high cheekbone. "I love you." He said it soft, yet sure. Never had he been surer of anything in his life. "I love you, Remy LeBeau." Then he grinned, bright and amused. "Just thought you should know."

Remy stared at him for one moment, looking utterly shocked. Then that shock melted away and joy took its place. Spencer found himself yanked close and kissed until he was breathless. When they broke apart, Remy pulled him closer, burying his face against Spencer's neck. "_Je t'aime aussi_, Spencer. _Je t'aime aussi_."

Holding tight, Spencer turned and pressed a kiss against Remy's neck, relishing in the love that was flowing between them. There on that ship as they passed the bright lights of the best sights in New York, Spencer held the man he loved and knew that the sights held nothing in comparison to what was right here in his arms.

* * *

That flush of love was still sitting with them when they finally made it back to the mansion late that night. The rest of their cruise had been wonderful; absolutely wonderful. The two had stayed out on the deck, eventually finding a bench to sit on together, watching the lights and enjoying being wrapped up in each other. Once they'd docked, they'd gone to their car and made the silent ride home. It hadn't been an awkward silence, but a peaceful one. The whole ride home their hands had stayed linked between them, just a light lacing of fingers. That was all they needed.

Now they stood by the front door, fingers linked once more, smiling at one another. As soon as they stepped through those doors, they were going to be back around other people. Someone would find them and someone would try to talk to them and the night would be over. Here, in this moment, they were still officially on their date and neither one of them wanted to let it end.

"I had a really wonderful time tonight." Spencer said softly. He brought a hand up, tucking a loose bit of hair behind Remy's ear.

Remy turned his head just enough to catch Spencer's hand as it went to move back down. He pressed a kiss to his palm before nuzzling his cheek there. "I'm glad. I did too, cher."

They both moved in a little for a goodnight kiss. The instant their lips touched, cheers and catcalls came from nearby, muffled by the window they were being watched through. Remy started laughing as Spencer flushed and dropped his head down to hide against Remy's neck. He recognized one of those voices and knew it was Alex. "I hate siblings." He murmured against the skin of Remy's neck. He could feel Remy shaking with his laughter. "_Non_, y' don't. Y' know y' love dem."

"Kiss him again!" A woman's voice called out. Spencer thought that it sounded like Rogue. That was surprising. She'd been dating Remy off and on for so long now that he'd honestly expected their shaky truce to shatter over something like this. Mentally he made a note to ask Remy about that later.

A second later Remy was calling back "Get y'r kicks somewhere else, y' voyeurs! Let me kiss m' man in peace!"

"Let's see some action!" Another woman called. This time, he thought it might be Jubilee. "Use some tongue!"

The absurdity of the situation had Spencer giving in to the insane urge to giggle. He couldn't help it. He was absolutely mortified by this, but he couldn't deny the humor he felt too. Pulling back, he looked at Remy's grinning face. That slightly impish side of Spencer came to the surface. "If they want a show," he said with amusement. "Then let's give them one."

While Remy was still looking at him with surprise, Spencer cupped the back of Remy's neck and pulled him in to kiss him with all love and passion that was inside of him. He felt Remy tremble under his hand and those clever thief's hands shook as they grabbed on to Spencer's jacket in an effort to hold himself up. Spencer traced his tongue over Remy's lips, enjoying the way the man moaned and opened his mouth, allowing Spencer's tongue to dart in to taste and explore and ravage.

When they finally pulled apart, there was a dazed look in Remy's eyes and the screams and catcalls were even louder than before. Spencer squeezed the back of Remy's neck once before letting go. "Come on, Rems. Let's go brave the lion's den."

"_Dieu_." Remy breathed out. He gave his head a quick shake before looking back at Spencer. His eyes glowed slightly in the porch light. "F'get dem. Get back over here." He pulled on Spencer, one hand going to lock into Spencer's hair and hold him in place when it looked like he was going to move away. The passion in his kiss had Spencer moaning into Remy's mouth. They forgot all about their audience and about the fact that they were on the front steps of the mansion. At least, until the door opened and Scott was there, arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow arched in that way he had that let a person know they were a step away from being in trouble. "Break it up, you two." He said dryly. "There are minors present. They don't need to witness a public porn show."

Remy broke the kiss only long enough to say "Shove off, Scotty." And then he was kissing Spencer once more.

Scott wasn't the least bit bothered by Remy's words. "Break it up or I'll do it for you."

"Is he serious?" Remy murmured against Spencer's lips.

The young genius had to take a second to get his brain cells in working order again. Then he thought about Remy's question and let out a soft sigh. "Probably."

"_Cul_."

"Yeah."

They moved apart, smiling at one another. Then, in unison, the two turned toward Scott and stuck their tongues out. Scott shook his head and stepped back. "Get in here, you freaks, and go to bed. It's almost lights out."

Spencer's sarcastic "Yes, Dad" was echoed by Remy's "_Oui, _Papa." The couple shared a grin before making their way into the house.

* * *

_And now we're caught up to what I have written. I've finally finished outlining the rest of the story-YES!-and now it's just a matter of writing it. So, it may take a day, maybe two, before the next update, folks!_

_IntoTheWilds: Glad you liked how it all turned out. Hope this chapter was just as good!_

_REBD: That does sound like Spencer, doesn't it :)_

_BSmusicprincess: Thanks!_

_ 4: I wasn't sure how the date helping part would go. Thought it might be too girly, but it's something I've been through, sort of, so I figured it was safe lol. Hmm, next chapter after this one you'll get to see what happens when Spencer finds out Chris is leaving. I imagine it'll be interesting ;) At least, I think it is, but I'm rather biased, lol_


	15. Chapter 15

The next morning, Remy and Spencer were in the kitchen together, preparing a pot of coffee before they headed out on a morning walk. Neither was much for conversation at the moment; that was okay, though. It was nice just to be in one another's company. A peaceful feeling sat with them as they made their way outside and Spencer started his familiar route. He'd worried, lying in bed that morning, that things might become awkward a little between him and Remy after last night's revelations. He'd wondered if maybe in the light of day, Remy might feel differently. But when he'd stepped into the kitchen and found Remy perched on the counter and the older man had given him that smile, Spencer's fears had eased. He'd walked over and given Remy a good morning kiss, this newfound love flowing back and forth between them.

They barely spoke on their walk. If they did, it was only simple things, such as pointing out the blooms in the garden, or comments on the change in the season, or other simple things like that.

It wasn't until they'd finished walking and were on their way back into the house that something caught Spencer's attention and pulled him out of his easy-going mindset. He saw Chris carrying his bag from the house, over to the garage. The man saw him and gave him such a venomous look that Spencer startled from it. What on earth was going on here? Almost without realizing it, his feet started to carry him toward the garage.

"Spencey?" Remy murmured beside him.

Spencer let go of Remy's hand, lifting his to pat the older man's shoulder. "I'll be back in a minute. I need to see what's going on."

"_D'accord_. Y' want me with y'?"

The fact that Remy asked and didn't insist on coming over, something that no one else would've done, was enough to warm Spencer's heart. He turned back to Remy and, smiling, kissed him. "No, but thank you for asking."

Remy smiled at him and stroked a hand over his cheek. "Go on, cher. I'll have another smoke and wait f' y' here."

He left Remy to his cigarette and carefully made his way over toward the garage. He found the Colonel in there, just closing the trunk on his baggage. His face was furious but there was also a mixture of hurt there. That threw Spencer more than anything else. Hurt? What had happened? He bit his lip before cautiously asking "Leaving early, Colonel? I thought you were able to stay for another week."

"Don't give me that bullshit, boy." Chris practically hissed the words at him. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? This is what you were aiming for, my leaving."

Surprise had Spencer's eyebrows winging up toward his hairline. "What?"

Chris stalked forward, sneering at him. "This was your whole little plan, wasn't it? Play the martyr, cry to Scott, and turn my boys against me. Turn them so against me that they'd even throw their own _father_ out of the house! I caught on to your little plan, boy. You may've fooled them and everyone else in this house, but you haven't fooled me."

What the hell was he talking about? Confused, Spencer stood his ground even as Chris advanced on him. "What are you talking about, Colonel?" Scott and Alex were throwing the Colonel out of the house? But, _why_? What the hell was going on here that he'd missed? He didn't have to wonder much longer. Chris's next speech made everything blindingly clear.

"As if you don't know. You devious little _shit_." Chris stopped right in front of him, right in his face, the fury and hurt he felt hitting Spencer like a fist. "You and I get in one little argument and you see it as the perfect way to come between me and my boys. You've been doing it for years and now you've finally succeeded in making them chase me away. You probably couldn't _wait_ to go and tattle to them that the big, bad Colonel slapped the little baby! And now, my own children are turning against me, kicking me out of the house in favor of some little piece of Vegas trash."

"No." Spencer breathed out. No! Who had told them? Who had tattled to Scott and Alex? Ororo had said she wouldn't tell them! And Remy…he wouldn't do something like that. Spencer refused to believe it. But who the hell had told them?

"You may have everyone else wrapped around your little finger, but you can't fool me. I know who you are. I know _what_ you are. Eventually, they'll realize the truth. Every one of them in that house will look at you and see what I already know. You're nothing more than a liar, a whore, and a murderer. Now, get the hell out of my way. I've got to go start saying goodbye." With one arm, Chris shoved past him, knocking Spencer back. The young genius stumbled, his mind so much in shock that he wasn't able to catch himself. He ended up on his backside on the ground, staring after the Colonel's retreating figure.

He didn't hear Remy coming, but he felt the man's concern right as he squatted down beside him. Yet Spencer couldn't bring himself to look away from where the Colonel had walked off, even though the man was long gone. His mind was spinning with what Chris had said. Scott and Alex were kicking Chris out of the house? But…but they couldn't do that. They couldn't! He was their _father_! They couldn't make him leave! Not over him.

"Spencer, _mon amour. _Look at me. Look at Remy." Remy called to him. His accent was a little thicker with his worry. Blinking, Spencer tried to reorient himself. Remy made an approving little murmur. "Dat's it, cher. Dat's it. Come on now, look at me. Let me see dem eyes. Spencer, what happened, _mon amour_? What did dat _salaud_ do to y'?"

Spencer blinked a few more times, pulling himself out of his head and back to the present moment. As soon as his mind cleared, he knew what he had to do. "Help me up, Rems." He said quickly. Hands out, he didn't give Remy much of a chance to protest. Together the two got Spencer on his feet. As soon as he was steady, Spencer pressed his cane into the ground and set off, Remy at his side.

"Spencer, what's going on?" Remy tried again.

"I need to find Scott, now." There was a hardness to Spencer's voice that Remy had never heard before. The young genius wasn't thinking logically at the moment, or calmly. Emotion was carrying him into the mansion and toward his brother's room. He followed the link he shared with his brothers, easily separating the one that was Scott, letting it lead him to the man's room. The ache in his leg from moving so fast was just a small annoyance in the background. All that mattered right now was finding Scott and fixing this. Even if he had to beat his brother to a pulp to do it.

When he reached Scott's room, he didn't stop and knock. He just opened the door and strode straight inside. He marched right over to the bed where Scott was still lying, by himself, and he lifted his cane, jabbing the man in the hip. Scott jumped and shot up in bed, hand instinctively going to his sleeping goggles before he realized who was there. Spencer didn't give him a chance to speak. Slamming his cane back down on the ground, he snapped out "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"What?" Scott groaned out. "What's the matter with _me_? You're the one storming into my room and poking me with your cane!"

Spencer scowled at him. "Get your ass up out of bed." He didn't wait for Scott to move. Making his way to the closet, he yanked the door open and grabbed the first set of Scott's clothes he found.

"What's going on? Has something happened?" Scott was asking him.

Marching back over, Spencer threw the clothes at Scott's face. "Get your ass out of that fucking bed and get dressed." He snarled out. The swearing surprised Remy and it made Scott's head snap up so that he was staring at his brother. It took a lot for Spencer to get pissed off enough to lose his fancier vocabulary and sink down to using curses. Spencer ignored the stares just as he ignored Logan, who had come to the bathroom door, a towel around his waist, having jumped from the shower at the sound of shouting. Not caring about any of them, Spencer moved to the dresser and grabbed a pair of boxers and socks, tossing those to Scott as well. "Get up!"

"What's going on here?" Logan demanded. "What happened?"

Stunning them all even more, Spencer turned and pointed a finger at Logan, telling him "You stay out of this!" Then, while they were still gaping, he turned back to Scott. "Why aren't you moving? Get up and get dressed!"

His expression firming, Scott moved toward the side of the bed, making the exchange from his sleeping goggles to his sunglasses. Only when he had them on did he turn to look at Spencer once more. "I'm not getting up from here until you tell me what exactly is going on, Spencer."

"You want to know what's going on? Huh? You want to know? How about the fact that you are the biggest fucking idiot I've ever met!" Spencer shouted furiously. "What on earth do you think you're doing, Scott? What the hell possessed you to kick the Colonel out of the house?

Realization dawned on Scott's face, followed by a quick flash of pain and then he was shuttered, his emotions walled off from Spencer. With slow, deliberate movements, Scott picked up his boxers and pants before sliding his legs off the bed. He kept the blanket discreetly over his waist as he put his feet into his clothes, keeping himself covered until he had them on. Then he stood to zip and button them. "I didn't kick him out, Spence. I gave him a choice. He was the one that chose to go."

"Then _stop him_!"

"No." Still calm, Scott picked up the shirt Spencer had tossed out. He slid it on before starting to do up the buttons. "He made his choice."

Alex's voice interrupted anything else that might have been said then. "What's going on here? I could hear you guys all the way down the hall!" he demanded, striding right into the middle of the room with Chris right on his heels. "What the hell are you two fighting about?"

Because of how Alex stood, Spencer didn't notice Chris at first. His temper blinded him. Furious, he turned to glare at Alex. "We're fighting because you guys are absolute imbeciles!" He shouted at his brother. "One of you needs to go after the Colonel and stop him before he leaves!"

"Don't shout at him." Chris snapped out. He stepped out from around Alex and gave a glare of his own right towards Spencer.

It was too much. All of it was just too damn much. Spencer couldn't take it. His temper had reached a boiling point, one that he had very rarely ever hit in his life, and he was beyond any sense of calm. The colors in his eyes were sparking and flashing in a dangerous fireworks show that was echoed by the lightly glowing arcs of power that danced over his hands and arms. "I have had _enough _of this!" He shouted loudly. His shout combined with the small display of power was enough to silence the whole room. Everyone was watching him with just a hint of caution. Scott and Alex, the only two to have seen Spencer ever this angry before, both had worry in with their caution. Scott held up his hands, the fight forgotten. "Spence…"

"Don't you 'Spence' me, Scott Summers!" Spencer lifted his hand and pointed a finger at him, not paying attention to the blue electricity that danced over that finger. He was so damn tired of all this fighting and all this stupidity. Didn't they understand? Didn't they see? "How can you be so stupid? You two need to fix this! Who cares if he hit me? It was a slap in the face! I don't care about getting slapped. If that's all I get out of him, then I consider myself lucky. It's not worth you two losing him over. It's not worth this fight!"

"It is to us." Alex said firmly. He ignored his father, keeping his eyes on Spencer.

Spencer turned his glare towards Alex once more and growled at him. "Then you're an even bigger fool than I thought. Do you realize what you're doing? What you're throwing away?" Pain ripped his words apart and had the colors in his eyes glowing. No one in the room seemed able to move as Spencer's shields wavered and the absolute agony he felt started to brush against them. Even Chris seemed stricken by it. Spencer didn't care. He ignored the man entirely and put his focus on his brothers. "You two have something that so many people would kill for. You have a Dad that loves you and you're going to throw it away over something so _stupid_! Do you realize how many nights I prayed to a God I don't even believe in that I could have what you two so casually take for granted? Do you know how many stars I wished on for something like that to happen? I wanted that love, that family feeling. I would've given anything to have it. And you two, you're standing here, throwing it away over something ridiculous! You have it all and you're just, you're throwing it away!"

This time it was Scott who spoke and his voice was wavering slightly, a hint of his internal ache in it. "Sherlock. Oh, honey…"

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Spencer shook his head. His temper started to drain out of him almost as quickly as it had come on. The power on his skin lowered to just a faint crackle. "Whatever fights the Colonel and I have are our business and ours alone. You two need to stay out of it. No matter what he feels towards me, it's abundantly clear that he loves the both of you totally and completely. Don't throw that away because you don't like how he and I interact." Then, to everyone's surprise, Spencer turned towards Chris and directed his next words right to him. "I know you can't stand me. But don't let your hatred for me poison what you have with them. You're smarter than that. All three of you are." He sighed out a breath, the last of the power draining from him, and he ran his eyes over the three men, encompassing them all. "You're a family. Don't you dare give that up over something so small and petty. If you're going to get in arms about him slapping me, than what comes next? Scotty, are you going to yell at Alex for any of the times he's tackled or punched me? Or what about when I broke Alex's nose? Are we going to cut each other off over things like that, too? Where do we draw the line?"

That question never had the chance to be answered. Before it could, another voice joined the mix, drawing all their eyes over to where Charles was sitting right in the doorway. "As important as this conversation is, I have to interrupt." He said apologetically. His eyes lifted to Scott. "There's been another attack here in New York. I need you and some others to go to the hospital and speak with our victim and offer them our protection."

It took just a second for that to sink in. When it did, surprise rocked Spencer back on his heels. Another attack. The way that Charles had flicked his eyes towards him when he said that said clearer than words just what he meant by 'attack'. Clenching his hand on his cane, Spencer made his throat work, only able to ask one word "Another?"

"We've been tracking them." Scott said. He ran a hand through his hair, looking more discomfited than most had ever seen from him. "I've been meaning to talk to you about it, Sherlock. It…it looks like there's been more than we originally thought. We've been trying to track them and map them out."

"Most of them seem to have been done by different people." Charles added in. "Different faces in different areas, yet the attack styles are the same."

The profiler in Spencer reared its head at that. He pushed down emotion and tried to make himself think logically. "Are you thinking a group, then? Like some kind of anti-mutant movement?"

Scott nodded. "It's the most likely possibility." He moved, gathering up his shoes and socks. Off to the side, Logan slipped into the bathroom with his clothes. Scott sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled on his socks. "Most seem to have multiple attacks in each city. So far, for New York, they haven't struck more than once."

"I've been the only one." He swallowed down the lump that saying that created. When Remy's hand settled lightly in the small of his back, he let himself lean backwards into the touch, letting it soothe him down. It helped him to find his voice for the rest. "I can take a look at what you guys have so far and see what I can find. Any sketches, statements, locations. I'd just need a whiteboard or something of the like and some space to spread out."

Finished with his shoes, Scott straightened up. He gave Spencer one long, searching look. After a pause he finally nodded. Whatever he'd seen, it had helped make his decision. "Perfect. I have everything in my office, including the whiteboard. It's just tucked into my closet. You know your way around my office, so help yourself to what you need. If you find out anything important, call and let me know, and I'll call to pass along anything we discover that might be important."

It was almost funny, the way their fight had been forgotten in the face of this. Everything else just sort of dropped to the wayside. Not gone, just pushed aside. This was more important. But still, when Logan came out dressed and ready to go and they were all starting to leave the room, Scott stopped right in the doorway, turning back to look at his brothers and his father. His expression was cautious, yet serious. "I don't think we're done yet." He told them. He turned towards Chris. "If you're still here when we get back, I'd like to finish this conversation. I think Spence made some good points."

Chris lifted his chin just a little and nodded. "I'd like that."

That settled it. Without another word, the group made their way out of the bedroom, Logan bringing up the rear and closing the door. Spencer walked down with them, following at the tail of the group. He listened vaguely as Charles told Scott that the others going with them would meet in the lobby. "I'd like you, Logan, Remy, Jean and Ororo to go. There's no telling who our victim will react well to talking with, nor is there any way to know what kind of trouble might be presented."

When they reached the downstairs, Spencer turned to start heading down towards Scott's office. He was stopped by a hand on his arm. Turning, he found Remy there, watching him. It warmed his insides when Remy reached out and took hold of his chin, holding him in place as he leaned in and gave him a kiss full of love and support. "_Je t'aime,_ Spencer." He murmured against his lips. "Y' just remember dat."

Spencer couldn't help how his lips curved. He felt Remy's love and projected his own back. He took another kiss, nipping at the man's bottom lip as he pulled back. "I love you too. Be safe."

* * *

That feeling of warmth and love stayed with Spencer as he set himself up in Scott's office. He pulled the whiteboard out of the closet where Scott had said it was and he set it up on the far side of the room. On one side of it was a map of the United States with little colored dots all over it. One color for each group of attackers. Spencer ignored that for just a moment and he flipped the board to show the other side. So far, nothing was up on there. He was quick to remedy that. The file with the different sketches of their various attackers was sitting right on Scott's desk. He opened it and pulled the groups out, taping them up one by one to the board. He kept them bunched together in their groups, helping him to keep them separate in his mind as well. On the table, he spread out the various witness statements and—his mind stuttered just slightly on this—autopsy reports. Seeing those really brought home to him just how things could've turned out.

He was just starting to sift through the photographs, wondering all the while how on earth they'd managed to get copies of official police files, when a strange sound alerted him that he was no longer alone. The very last person he expected to see when he turned around was Chris Summers. Yet the man stood in the doorway, his hand stuffed down in his pockets in a gesture that immediately reminded Spencer of Alex when he was nervous about something.

Spencer straightened up from the table, holding a file loosely in his hand. He watched Chris with a hint of caution. "Can I help you, Colonel?"

At first he wasn't sure that Chris was going to answer him. The man just stared at him for the longest moment. When Spencer was just about to give up, to turn back to his task, Chris finally seemed to find the words he wanted. "I just, I wanted to say that, well, what you did back there, with the boys…" He paused and cleared his throat, his voice slightly gruffer when he continued on. "It was nice. Surprising, but nice."

"I didn't do it for you." Spencer surprised them both by saying. Uncomfortable, he shrugged one shoulder and dropped his eyes down to the file he held. In his discomfort, he found himself rambling, filling in the awkward silence. "I know what it feels like to be without a parent. I didn't want them to have to go through that over something so ridiculous."

"Ah, yes, well…" Chris cleared his throat again. He looked more uncomfortable than Spencer had ever seen him. Rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, he started to back out of the room. "Well, that's all. I just wanted to say that."

Today seemed to be a day for these big moments. From somewhere inside, Spencer found the courage to ask something he'd always wanted to ask. "Why do you hate me?" He blurted out abruptly. His words had Chris freezing in his tracks and they made his stomach churn, yet he didn't try to take them back. He clenched tighter on the file, not even noticing it, and he watched Chris's face. "I mean, I know you hate me because…because of Mom. I understand that you blame me. I get it, I really do. But…I can feel your hatred. It's so much more than that. It grew over the years until it became this. I just, I want—I _need_ to know why."

He watched and waited, wondering if Chris would actually answer him. Would the man finally give him the answer to the question he had wondered about for so long? Would he finally find some kind of understanding? Sometimes Spencer thought it would all be so much easier if he just understood.

Chris stunned him when he turned back to face him once more and actually stepped into the room. Holy shit, he _was_ going to answer. The man's posture shifted to an almost military stance and his chin lifted once more in that stubborn gesture all the boys shared in. It was the same look Alex got when he was about to do something he didn't want to, yet knew he had to. "I was always so angry at you for Katherine's death. For a long time, I was furious with you over it. They had to pick which one of you to save at the hospital and I was furious that they'd chosen you. I felt they'd chosen wrong. I wanted my wife, my _life_ back. But you were a part of her and I couldn't turn my back on you completely. That's why I gave you to the Will and Diana. Plus, a part of me figured that maybe, one day, I could look at you without all that anger."

"What changed?" Spencer asked softly. He felt like his heart was in his throat. This was the most they'd ever talked, _ever_, and he was so terrified that saying the wrong thing would end it. He needed to hear this. He needed to understand!

Chris cocked his head slightly, his eyes locked on Spencer's face. "You did." He said bluntly. "Katherine gave her life for you, and you squandered it every chance you got. William told me what kind of child you were. Defiant, manipulative, always causing trouble. Pitting him and Diana against one another until all they did was fight. How you caused trouble in school."

The words hit Spencer like blows. Wait, what? William said _what_?

There was no chance for him to speak. Chris was on a roll now and it looked like everything was going to come pouring out. "Then, when Will finally left, when Diana chose you over him, what did you do with yourself? Did you get any better? Sure, you went to college. But you left a sick mother at home alone without any care. You left her to tend to herself, knowing she was ill, while you went out and got your education on _their_ dime. And I know about Chester, too. I know what you did with him, how you whored yourself. For what? Drugs?" The anger was growing on Chris's face and his lip curled up in a sneer. "Not to mention how you've manipulated your brothers into seeing you as this weak little thing. You've just got it made, don't you? One little cry from you and they'll drop anything and anyone to come running to your defense. You've got them all just wrapped around your little finger. So yeah, I've got a lot of anger against you. You proved me right. They should've let you die at the hospital. Better than letting you walk the earth, squandering the gift my beautiful wife gave you. You make me _sick_."

When Spencer had asked his question, he'd never expected to get an answer like this. The shock of it all had him speechless. Was this really what Chris believed? He really thought all of that? How could he know so much and yet still manage to have so many things wrong? Spencer closed his eyes and fought back the wave of grief that cascaded over him. Very carefully, with controlled, deliberate movements, Spencer set the file he was holding down onto the table. He pressed his palm flat over it, smoothing out the creases he'd made. It gave him just a moment to draw together his composure. To try and calm himself down and think of how to respond. This may well be his only chance to say his piece. For once in his life, he wasn't going to avoid the confrontation. He was going to say his piece.

"You have some of your facts right." Spencer said suddenly. He opened his eyes and met Chris's gaze more steadily than he ever had before. "But so much of it is wrong. Your first mistake, sir, was in believing anything that William Reid had to say."

"Save it. You're not going to be able to give me the same lines you gave the boys about your troubles with William."

"Troubles? Is that what you think we had?" Such a small word for something so huge.

Chris's sneer grew a little. "Scott never told me whatever bull you fed him about Will. What did he do, yell at you? Spank you?"

A startled laugh slipped past Spencer's lips. There was such a cynical sound to it that it stunned Chris. Spencer didn't care. "Spank me?" He repeated. "Like I ever had it that easy with him. For the first ten years of my life, that man didn't discipline me, he _beat_ me. With his fists, his belt, whatever was handy." Spencer saw that Chris was about to say something, most likely protest somehow, and he cut him off before he could get it out. "Everything William told you was a lie. You have no idea what Mom and I lived with while he was there. The absolute hell he put us through. He hated me for being different, being a _freak_ who was too smart, and he hated Mom for loving me. He made our lives miserable. And then, yeah, he left us. But not because Mom chose him over me. He left because he was a coward who couldn't take care of the family he had."

"How dare you…!"

"Oh, I'll dare a lot, Colonel." Spencer warned. He clenched down on his cane and took a single step forward. Dammit, he was going to get this out! "For once, you're going to have to listen to me. You think you know everything? You have no idea. I could let a lot of it go and not give a care in the world what you have to think about me. But I will not stand here and listen to you spit out that complete and utter _bullshit_ about me abandoning Mom."

If Chris had known his youngest son better, he would've known that it was never a good sign for Spencer to swear. But he had no idea and so he didn't know to heed that warning. "What else do you call it, then? Running off to college in _California_, leaving her to take care of everything, to pay your way."

"She didn't pay for my schooling, you imbecile." Spencer swore. "_I _did. _I _paid for my schooling. _I_ paid the bills around the house. _I _paid for the food. _I_ paid for her medications. _I_ paid for it all. Don't you dare say I didn't take care of her. I did everything I could to take care of her! Why do you think I whored myself out, as you so blithely put it?" He saw the light of realization dawn over Chris's face and he nodded at him. "Exactly. You're getting it. I didn't spend time with Chester for _fun_ or for drugs, Colonel. I let that perverted old man do what he wanted with me because it guaranteed that Mom was taken care of. We had a deal, him and I. He paid everything for Mom, everything for my housing near school, and he provided me with an allowance, and I was his to call whenever and wherever he wanted. I did all of that, for _her_. So you say what you will but don't you ever let me hear you say that I abandoned her ever again. I love that woman with every fiber of my being and I would do anything, anything, for her."

The day had been just too much. Spencer dropped his head down and closed his eyes. He couldn't stand to look at whatever expression was on Chris's face now. He had his shields drawn in tight to keep from feeling him as well. "This conversation is done." He said as firmly as he could manage. "I'm not doing this. Not anymore. Not today. I promise you, I'll behave and I won't cause any trouble with you or your boys. I'll even help in my own way. But I am through discussing this. Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do." He turned himself, putting his back to Chris, and focused his attention on the board in front of him. Right here were monsters walking the world that he could stop. There was no more point in dredging up his own monsters. Fixing his attention on that, he never heard as Chris left the office, or as the door gently clicked shut behind him. Nor did he notice the single tear that slid down his own cheek.

* * *

_Just want to take a second to say a quick thanks for your reviews, guys. Thanks to the new reviewers as well as the ones who have been here from the start. You guys are great! Hopefully the next chap won't take me as many days, but who knows. Got shopping and the dentist tomorrow, blech. But please, let me know what you thought of this! I'm not so sure. Any who, have a good day/night, my lovelies!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Okay, so here's a longer chap. That's why it took me a bit to write. We're getting close to the end, my gorgeous people. Gahhh._

_I have to give a warning here, cause I don't want people flaming me. :/ There's, ah, smuttiness in this chap. Yeah, you read that right. Smuttiness. Hot, smexy S/R smuttiness. So, you're warned, ha. If you want to skip past that part, once it's obvious what's happening, just scroll to the next page break line thingy and it'll be done right there. Not that I really even think I did a good job, and the story would probably be just fine without it. But cr8zymommy insisted that it was very swellegant and she wanted it in. So, it stayed. Can't deny that lady ;)_

_Okay, anyways, read on!_

* * *

Spencer felt it when the group returned to the mansion. The lines he carried with his brothers let him know as they got closer and then as they were finally at the house. They also told him that both men were quiet and just a little stricken by whatever they'd seen. That worried Spencer enough to have him putting down his pens and picking up his cane. He'd been in the middle of mapping things out and seeing what kind of data he could compile in each individual area. But feeling how off his brothers were was enough to have him heading out to find them.

Right as Spencer reached the end of the hall, the front door opened and a very subdued group came in. Spencer ran his eyes over them in search of any kind of injuries. Maybe they'd come across something while out. That suspicion was confirmed when he saw a few marks here and there on their clothes. Thankfully, Scott and Alex both looked uninjured. Once he realized that, his eyes sought out the next person. When Remy came in, stepping out from behind Logan, Spencer's heart clenched. Remy didn't look physically hurt. No, he looked worse than that. He looked mentally hurt. His face was a carefully constructed blank mask that was at total odds with the ache that Spencer could feel radiating off of him even at this distance.

Without realizing it, he found his feet carrying him forward, moving towards the group. The click of his cane drew their attention and had eyes lifting towards him. "What happened?" Spencer asked.

"It's fine." Alex told him. "We're cool. We just ran across this big anti-mutant rally in town."

"We kept them from getting a little too heated with a mutant kid that happened to stumble across them." Scott added.

Spencer winced at that. He reached the group right then and his free hand lifted out towards Remy. He saw the man hesitate briefly before he took the offered hand. Spencer wondered if anyone else had noticed the small tremor to Remy's hand. Their fingers twined together and Spencer let his love and happiness at having Remy back slide from him over to his partner. Remy visibly relaxed a little and he took another step towards Spencer. He was a rolling mess of dark emotions on the inside, so much so that Spencer could feel it aching to get free from him. He knew what that felt like. He also knew that Remy wouldn't accept any more help than his hand while they were here in front of people. So, he sent more warmth, more love, and tried to think of a quick and discreet way to get them out of here.

The people around them seemed to have missed all that just passed between the two. Scott was pulling his coat off and draping it over his arm as he asked "How did things go with the case files?"

Spencer kept watch on Remy out of the corner of his eye while answering his brother. Where could he take his Cajun to try and help him to fix this? "I've got a decent head start on the cases so far. You guys had them all grouped together as a whole and I tried to look at things that way first. However, I think there's too much random data. While I agree that they're a part of a group, they all operate just a little differently, so it seemed logical to me to break this down into individual cases. I've got the work started on most of them. If you don't mind leaving things where they are, I'll come back in the morning and finish putting them together. I think once I do, some things will become clearer."

"Why don't we go take a look at things now, before dinner, and you can explain to me what you've got so far?"

To Spencer's surprise, Alex reached out and caught Scott's arm, drawing his attention. "Why don't we save it for tomorrow, bro? Give the runt a little breathing time." He cast a quick look at Spencer, eyes flickering towards Remy and back to Spencer in a way that let the young genius know that someone else had seen just how much Remy was coming apart. But Alex didn't call attention to that, maybe knowing that it wasn't the right thing to do, or that Remy wouldn't appreciate it. Instead, he said "It probably wasn't easy to deal with all that. Let him have some breathing space. Plus, we still gotta see if Pop stuck around, remember?"

A brief scowl twisted Scott's face. "Oh. Right."

Thoughts of the Colonel had Spencer's stomach twisting. Firmly, he pushed those feelings back. He wouldn't think on it. He'd said his piece to the man and the hell if he was going to let their argument ruin the rest of his night. "He's still here." He told his brothers. A quick check with his senses and he added "He's upstairs, in his room. I think it would be good if you guys went to talk to him." Smiling at Scott, the anger from this morning gone between them, he said "Just listen to what he has to say, Scotty. We…talked, he and I. I think he'll be a little different than you expect."

"You two talked? Actually talked?" Alex said in shock.

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Yes, we actually talked. While neither of us will ever be friends, I think we have somewhat of an understanding. We found some common ground and for us, it's enough." And that was all he was going to say on that. He didn't give Scott or Alex a chance to press the issue. "You two go and deal with the Colonel. I've been cooped up at the table for a while and I think I want to stretch my legs. You want to come with me?" He directed the last part to Remy, who smiled and nodded at him. "_Oui_, cher."

"Wonderful. We'll see the rest of you later." And wasting no more time, Spencer started to lead Remy towards the back of the house. He has a few ideas about how to help Remy with all those emotions in him, but he still has no idea where they can go for enough privacy for them to do any of those ideas. The last thing he wants is someone interrupting them. Remy wasn't really the type to accept help, or to even admit he had troubles. Another area in which they had quite a bit in common. If he wanted to have any hopes in getting Remy to open up to him, he needed to find them somewhere private. Somewhere Remy would feel safe to let go a little bit.

They were quiet during their walk, Spencer trying to figure things out and Remy lost in his own thoughts. In the end, it was Remy who came up with the solution. Their walk had taken them down towards the water as it usually did and Remy turned them on their path just slightly, steering them towards the direction of the dock. The minute Spencer looked up and saw the boathouse right near the dock, he realized it was the perfect place. No one came down here. Scott had told Spencer once that Remy had stayed here, back when he'd first come back from the Artic, before they'd convinced him to stay up at the house once more. Maybe, if they were lucky, the furniture the Cajun had used might still be there and they could have someplace comfortable to sit and talk.

When Spencer shifted their path, leading them up towards the front door of the boathouse, Remy looked over at him with surprise. "Cher?"

"Just trust me." Spencer said simply.

It gave him a warm feeling when Remy nodded without hesitating. "_Oui_."

Together, the two made their way inside. Spencer was pleased to see that things were still set up in here. He spied the perfect place just a little ways in. A couch and coffee table were set up right in front of a nice fireplace. Spencer tugged on Remy's hand, smiling at him. "Come sit with me a while."

"Y' wanna sit in here?" Remy looked around them and then at the couch. "It's probably dustier dan hell in here. Aint been out f' a little while to clean t'ings up."

"It looks clean enough to me." Again, Spencer tugged his hand, bringing them a little closer to the couch. He smiled sweetly yet shyly. "Come sit with me, Remy. It's been a crazy day."

He saw as Remy's initial resistance melted away. He let Spencer draw him down onto the couch. The two settled comfortably down into the soft cushions. Spencer let out a little sigh as he did. This couch was surprisingly soft and comfortable. It was just the right height, too, that it supported his thigh without putting the ache in there like some couches could do. This one was just perfect. It became even more perfect when, once Spencer had gotten comfortable on the middle cushion, Remy curled up right against his side. Spencer lifted an arm and wrapped it around his shoulders, which just allowed Remy to snuggle in even more. They ended up with Spencer leaning back, legs stretched out and ankles crossed, and Remy was pressed right up against his side, under Spencer's arm, with his knees drawn up towards his chest. One of his hands had burrowed behind Spencer to rest against the small of his back and the other had lifted to press against his heart.

For a long while the two of them just sat there. They didn't say anything, didn't do anything. Just sat there and relished in each other's company. Spencer kept an internal eye on Remy's emotions, feeling as all those negative emotions fought inside of him. They were going down, little by little, but the fight to control them was taxing the thief. He was shivering ever so slightly, pressing just a little closer to Spencer's side like, by doing so, he could absorb the other man's heat.

Spencer could only come up with just a couple things that made any sense to him as to what could have happened to cause this. Scott had said they'd had to keep some anti-mutant jerks from getting a little too heated with a kid they stumbled across. So Spencer figured that either Remy had felt too many negative emotions at the rally—a very distinct possibility and one that Spencer had dealt with plenty of times before, himself—or else, something about the situation had acted as a trigger for the minefield that was Remy's memories. Possibly it was a little of both.

Either way, Spencer knew he had to do something. He couldn't just sit here and let Remy hurt like this. Just being together wasn't helping enough. One idea came to mind and Spencer acted on it before he could over think it. He tipped his head enough to smile down at Remy, waiting until he'd caught his eye before telling him "Come here."

Confusion flashed over Remy's face. "What?"

"Come here."

"I'm already here, cher." Remy pointed out.

The corner of Spencer's mouth quirked up. He reached over himself and hooked a finger in Remy's belt loop, giving it a tug. "Come _here_." He tugged again and this time Remy flowed with the movement, allowing Spencer to pull him over until the Cajun was straddling his waist. Remy settled in gingerly, cautious of being on Spencer's thighs this way. Spencer's smile grew a little more and he reached up and put his other hand on Remy's other hip, tugging again until Remy stopped being so damn delicate and was actually sitting on him. At the same time, he uncrossed his ankles and braced his feet to better support his lapful. "I won't break, you know." He told him with amusement.

"Didn't want to hurt y'r leg with m' weight." Remy explained.

"You aren't." Shifting his hands, he settled them more comfortably on Remy's hips and pulled him in just a little closer, enjoying the way it made Remy suck a breath in. He couldn't help but smirk just a little. "See? You're not really on my thighs that much anyways."

A corner of Remy's mouth quirked just the slightest bit. Upset he may have been, it didn't stop him from responding to Spencer's unusually bold actions or the love and humor coming from him. He brought his arms up and slipped his hands behind Spencer's head, twining his fingers through his hair. "Someone's feeling playful." He teased.

Spencer tipped his head back so that he could smile up at him. He let go of Remy's hip with one hand and reached up to snag his sunglasses. Pulling them off, he tossed them to the side. There, that was better. He loved looking at Remy's eyes. He lightly traced his fingers over Remy's cheekbone, watching as those beautiful eyes slid to half-mast and Remy turned his face into the soft touch. "You've felt so miserable since you came back. Miserable and cold."

"Just got a lil stuck in m' head, dat's all." Remy nuzzled at the hand that was still tracing his cheek. "It happens sometimes."

"I don't like to see you so upset." He slid his hand back to cup the back of Remy's neck, using it to pull his head down. When their lips were inches apart, Spencer murmured "Let me warm you up, Rem. Let me help you feel good again." Then he pressed their lips together and he did something he wouldn't dare do with anyone else. He opened up his shielding just enough that everything he felt was right there in the open for the other empath to feel. He felt Remy gasp against his kiss as he felt everything that Spencer was feeling. The love, the lust, the concern layered over with a need to protect, to care for the person in his lap. The need to hold him and cherish him like so many people in his life had failed to do.

Remy pulled back from their kiss and his eyes were wide, his pupils dilated. "Spencer." He whispered the word on a shaky breath. "All dat? All dat's f' Remy?" There was so much awe in his voice.

"All of it's for you, Remy. That's what you make me feel."

"Ah, cher. Y' feel so _bon_. So warm and bright. Remy aint worth all dis. Not dis much."

Those heartbreaking words were like an echo of Spencer's own feelings sometimes. He knew what it was like to believe you were worthless and underserving of even a basic human kindness. He absolutely refused to let Remy feel that way with him. No matter what it took, no matter how long, he would convince the man of his sincerity. He gave the back of Remy's neck a light squeeze. "You're worth it to me." Leaning in, he kissed him softly. "You'll always be worth it to me." Another soft kiss. "I love you." Another kiss, and this time Spencer didn't break away. He packed all the heat and passion in him inside of that kiss. He felt Remy moan and those long fingers twisted in his hair to cup his head, holding it in place.

Remy's tongue traced over his lips, seeking entrance, and Spencer opened himself to it, tilting his head up more as he felt that talented tongue slip into his mouth. He took advantage of Remy's distraction with their kiss to slide both hands along the man's jacket, slipping them in side and over Remy's shoulders. Remy got the hint and let go of Spencer's head long enough to drop his arms back and let the coat slide off and down to the ground. Then his hands were right back at Spencer's head, holding either cheek, keeping him in place as their kiss broke. Their foreheads pressed together and Spencer found himself staring directly into Remy's eyes. Whatever he saw there, it must've been what he wanted to see. Remy's lips curved up into an honest smile, the most honest one he'd had since coming back to the house. He bent in just the slightest bit and nipped at Spencer's bottom lip. "_Dieu_, Spencer. Y' make me feel like a hell of a man when y' look up at me like dat." He murmured huskily.

"You are a hell of a man." One of Spencer's hands slid off of Remy's shoulder and down his chest, pausing to feel his heart. "You're beautiful, Rem. Inside and out."

Those were the last words spoke for a little while. Spencer's lips were too busy for him to say anything else. His brain short circuited anyways. He doubted he could've formed any real, intelligible thoughts. Remy was a damn good kisser. He tasted and teased, alternating between soft kisses, little teasing nips, and deep kisses that stole his breath away. Spencer didn't just remain still underneath him, though. He'd been the one to start this and, while he let Remy be in control for now, he wasn't being submissive. His hands slid over Remy's shirt, dipping down to the bottom to tease at the soft skin just underneath, barely dancing his fingers along the top of Remy's pants. Then he'd slide his hands back own, down over the outside of Remy's thighs and to his knees, which were pressed into the couch on either side of Spencer's hips, and then back up and over his hips to cup his backside.

It didn't take long before Remy was squirming underneath those light touches. If there was one thing he'd learned early on about Remy, it was that the man thrived on touches. They were like air for him; essential to his survival. Spencer knew that and used it to tease him now and drive him just a little crazy. Remy broke their kiss to plead, their lips so close they were brushing. "Spencer, _mon amour_, _s'il tu plait._"

The ragged plea sent an arrow of heat through Spencer. He slipped his hands back to Remy's hips, teasing once more at the bottom of his shirt. Then, when he felt a shiver run down that lithe frame, he gave in to what they both wanted and he finally pressed his hands firmly against skin. Not the soft, feather touches of before, but a firm stroke up Remy's sides and around to his back. His fingers came across something rough and raised, long lines in the smooth skin, and he felt Remy tense briefly. _Scars_, Spencer's brain supplied. _These are scars._ He remembered Remy telling him once that he wasn't the only one with scars. Spencer didn't hesitate or falter in the least bit, just let his hands run over them with the same appreciation he was showing every other part of this man. Those scars were just as beautiful to him as the rest of Remy was.

Bringing his hands back round, he traced them over the muscles on that tight stomach and up, over his chest, enjoying the shudder Remy gave when he brushed his thumbs over already hard nipples. He watched the passion on Remy's face, the way his eyes kept trying to slide closed, the way his mouth dropped open on those sweet little gasping breaths. Spencer brought his hands down and took hold of the hem of Remy's shirt. In one smooth, easy move, he drew it up and over his head, tossing it to land somewhere nearby. Immediately his hands were back on the skin he'd been aching to see for what felt like so very long now. "You are so beautiful." He pinched at Remy's nipples, causing Remy to gasp and drop his head back a little. "Absolutely gorgeous." All that sweet, honeyed skin, the lines of a muscular, well-shaped body. God! How had he gotten so lucky in having such a beautiful partner? How had someone who looked like this ended up with someone who looked like him?

"_Dieu_." Remy breathed out. He tipped his head forward again and his own hands were suddenly moving. Quick, nimble fingers had Spencer's shirt buttons undone in no time. Spencer had to let go of Remy so that he could drop his hands down to take his shirt off. But he leaned forward at the same time and replaced his fingers with his lips, latching on to one of Remy's nipples. A loud moan echoed around the room. One of Remy's hands cupped the back of Spencer's head, not holding him there, just anchoring on him. Spencer sucked and nipped at one and then the other while he drew his arms out of his sleeves and added his shirt to their growing pile of clothes. He dropped back with one last nip and immediately his face was caught and tipped up and he found his mouth ravished.

It didn't allow him any time to feel modest about being half naked. Usually, he would've been flushing and probably stuttering. He had no illusions about his body and what it looked like. There was no comparison between himself and the beauty in his lap. But Remy's lips were on his and those talented thief hands were running over him, leaving him no time to think of modesty or of not being good enough. All he felt was the lust and the heat and touching as much as he possibly could. His own hands were roaming over Remy, finding those little spots that made him gasp or twist or that drew a husky little purr out of him. All the while, Remy was doing the same, mapping out his body with touch. Somehow, Remy's shoes ended up off, all without him ever having to rise, and socks joined them as well. Then, as Spencer's hands got bolder, Remy's belt was jeans were undone and he was sliding his hands underneath, cupping that firm backside, and moaning as he discovered that Remy had nothing else on underneath those worn jeans. He used his grip to draw Remy's hips in again and he pushed his own up, rubbing them together. Twin moans filled the air.

The least shy of the two, it was naturally Remy who escalated things even more. He took one more kiss from Spencer and then pushed up off his lap. His moves were sultry and almost liquid, his body flowing through the air in a sexual dance that had Spencer spellbound. He had to shift to adjust the tightness in his slacks when Remy started to shimmy out of his jeans. He didn't realize how the sparks in his eyes were glowing and dancing with his lust. When that long, lean body was finally revealed, Remy standing in all his glory in front of him, Spencer swore his throat dried up. He was _beautiful. _Long, muscled legs, slender hips, the hard length of him that jutted out proudly, his sculpted stomach, those lean yet strong arms, and that devilishly handsome face with just the hint of stubble, framed by waves of auburn hair.

Remy surprised him by dropping down into a squat right in front of him. A second later Spencer found out why. The Cajun took hold of one foot first, unlacing and then pulling his shoe off, followed by his sock, and then he did the next. Then he shifted to his knees so that he was kneeling right between Spencer's legs. His hands slid up Spencer's calves, then over his thighs, and those demon eyes looked up through his bangs to lock on Spencer's face. "Wanna see y', cher. I wanna see all of y'. Will y' let me?"

The fact that he asked put a lump in Spencer's throat. He couldn't think of one time, ever, that someone had asked when they were at this point. What was more, something told Spencer that Remy wouldn't be angry with him if he said no. It was an amazing feeling to know that, to see it written right there on his face, to feel it in his emotions.

They were both opened wide to the other right now, so Remy felt those emotions as they coursed through Spencer. He bent down and pressed a kiss to one thigh and to the other. What else could Spencer say at that moment? Somehow he found enough voice to whisper just one word. "Yes."

It took a little work from both of them. When his belt and pants were undone, he had to adjust his legs and try to lift his hips a little to allow Remy the room to slide them down. It brought the first problem they'd had since they came in here. A twinge ran up Spencer's leg, the threat of a cramp, and it was enough to make him forget momentarily what was going on. But then he felt his pants slide the rest of the way down his legs, off his feet, and suddenly Remy's hand was on his thigh, right over where the muscle was trying to cramp. The Cajun had felt the pain and reacted automatically to it. He firmly rubbed over the muscle until the threat of that cramp had faded.

His other hand had gone to Spencer's other thigh. Now that the pain was gone, his touch took on a whole new meaning. He stroked both hands up and down Spencer's thighs and made a happy, purring sound as he looked at the impressive length right in front of him. Spencer wasn't thick but he was long. The young genius couldn't hold in his gasp when Remy leaned forward and flicked his tongue out, lapping up the small pearl of fluid at the tip. It took all the control he had not to thrust his hips up to meet that dangerous mouth. The only thing that truly held him back was the reminder that this had been started as a way to help Remy get rid of those negative emotions. This was supposed to be about him, about giving him all the positive emotions to take the place of the others, to help chase away those memories that still haunted him. Reminding himself of that gave Spencer a strength he doubted he would have had otherwise. He reached down and caught Remy's hands in his, surprising the man when he pulled and drew him back up and once more into his lap.

The first brush of their bodies against one another, that press of hard flesh against hard flesh, and the both of them lost the ability to speak for a moment. Gasps and moans were the only sounds. Remy's hips started a rocking motion that Spencer rose to meet. Oh, God. He needed to get this under control or he wasn't going to last through this at all. The lust he felt, the lust Remy felt, was twining together into one big thing, circling back and forth between them and growing with each pass. Their lust was feeding off each other. Remy's pleasure was his pleasure and his pleasure was Remy's.

Remy tossed his head back and rocked a little harder, a little faster. "_Dieu,_ Spencer. Ah, cher, y' feel s' _bon_."

They had no supplies down here to do things the way they might've if he'd been prepared. But that didn't mean that it couldn't be good. But Remy's hands were wandering over him again and Spencer knew, he just knew if he let Remy keep going, this was going to be over far too soon. So, he caught a wrist in each hand, startling Remy completely, and he pulled them behind his back, catching them both up with one hand, his fingers just long enough to hold both wrists with that one hand. He saw and felt as heat flashed through Remy and his pleasure gave a sharp spike. He liked this. They both knew that Remy could break free in an instant if he wanted, but that wasn't important.

Spencer shook his head, getting his hair out of his face, and he looked up at Remy's face. "You keep touching me like that and I'll embarrass myself entirely."

"Can't help it." Remy's voice had grown just a little raspier, his accent thickening. "Y' feel s' _bon, mon cœur. Mon bijou._ Y' let me touch y'? Let me make it good f' y'."

"This is good for me. This is very, very good." To prove his point, Spencer took his free hand and slid it between them. He wrapped his long fingers around them, groaning as he was caught between Remy and his own hand. Remy groaned as well and thrust his hips up. Spencer kept a tight hold on Remy's wrists, which kept his shoulders back and his body arched, and he held on tightly to them as Remy started to rock in and out of his fist. At the same time, Spencer took everything inside of him, every bit of passion he felt, every spark of lust, and he projected it towards the man he held. He knew when it hit Remy because he felt the full body shudder run through him. The man let out a long stream of words that Spencer barely understood. His hips started moving faster, losing some of their smooth rhythm.

Spencer felt his own control start to splinter at the sight of Remy coming apart in his lap. The more lust Spencer sent his way, the faster that agile body moved, and the more Remy's usual control seemed to fly out the window. His head was thrown back, his chest was thrown out from his pulled back arms, and his body was rolling and rocking in a relentless quest for that final bit of pleasure. Spencer rocked his hips up in return, giving his fist a small squeeze around them, and he felt his own body shudder as well. Any plans, any thought at all, was fading to the background. All he could focus on was the pleasure that was building higher and higher and higher, taking him up to that peak before finally, yes, yes, yes!, throwing him right over the edge in an explosion of sound and light and a pleasure so strong it was almost pain. His head bent back and his body arched as his orgasm was ripped out of him from deep down inside. When it finally let him go, his body slumped into the couch, muscles too weak to hold him up.

Above him, he heard Remy's answering moan, the man feeling his orgasm with him. He felt as Remy pumped those last few times and then his body was tensing and Spencer felt as more warm fluid splashed between them. Through heavy eyes, he watched Remy's face, watched the pleasure overtake it. The image would be forever burned into Spencer's brain. He knew he'd never forget how Remy looked as he came. God, the man was beautiful!

A second later Remy slumped down onto him, half sliding towards the side to keep his weight from squishing Spencer.

The boathouse was quiet now except for the sounds of their heavy breathing. It took a good, long while before their breathing evened out and either one felt as if they could move again. Even then, they didn't use much. Remy reached down and picked up his shirt off the ground and he used it to wipe them both off. Then he tossed the shirt over the back of the couch and pushed on Spencer, laying him down before climbing on top of him and snuggling in. Spencer made a soft humming sound of contentment. Through half-lidded eyes, he watched Remy snag his trench off the ground and draw it over him. Then, nicely tucked in, Remy laid his head down over Spencer's heart. "_Je t'aime,_ Spencer." He murmured.

"I love you too, Rem."

Together, the two drifted off to sleep, happy and content.

* * *

While those two were sharing in their alone time down at the boathouse, a different meeting entirely was going on up at the mansion. Scott, Alex and Chris were all settled down in Scott's office, over by the couch and chairs. It was the only part of the office that didn't seem to be taken over by Spencer's profiling. They'd come in here with the intent to talk, yet so far they were all sitting and just drinking, not really saying anything at all. No one was quite sure what to say to one another and all of them were stuck in their own thoughts.

It was no real surprise, though, that Alex was the one to break the quiet. Nor was it really a surprise what the question was that burst from him. "What did you and Spence talk about?" He blurted out. At the surprised look from Chris, he added "He said the two of you talked and reached some kind of common ground or some crap like that. What did you two talk about?"

At first it didn't look like Chris was going to answer that. He never was the type to take well to Alex's belligerent attitude when it came out. But, stunning both his sons, he sighed a little and sank back in his chair, kind of deflating in front of them. Something passed over his face. Confusion? Uncertainty, maybe. He lifted his glass and stared down at the contents inside as if the scotch would give him some kind of answer. "He asked me a question. I answered him."

Scott was the one to venture the next question. "What did he ask?"

"He asked me why I hated him." Chris made a soft sound and took a big drink from his glass. The boys didn't have to ask the next question. Chris told them before they had a chance to say anything. "I told him the truth. I told him about William telling me about what kind of kid he was. How he pushed Will out of the home, broke up their marriage without a care, and how he then ran off to college on their dime without a care about Diana being sick. And I told him I knew all about Chester. Maybe if things had been different, I wouldn't have been so angry. But, dammit, it's not right. It's not right my Katherine traded her life for him to destroy his."

Silence fell over the office. When it was broken this time, it wasn't Alex who broke it, or Alex whose temper exploded. It was Scott. He sat forward in his chair, his hands clenched tightly around the glass he held, and his fury was practically radiating from him. "Wait a second. Wait a damn minute. You're telling me your hatred of him is based off of a bunch of William Reid's bullshit lies? _That's_ why you've treated Spencer the way you have?"

"How do you know they're lies? Because _he_ said so?" Chris snapped.

"I know because I looked at him!" Scott shouted right back at him. "I saw him back then, Pop! I took care of him. I saw the bruises and scars that he told me came from kids at school. I believed him because I knew the kids there beat him up. I'd stepped in and stopped it before when I picked him up one time. But you know who it was who finally told me what William had done? Diana." He saw Chris startle and he shot him a sneer. "That's right. It was after the bastard had already left them. _Left them_, not was forced out. He walked out on his family without anything more than a crappy ass letter. I called the house one time to talk to Spencer and I got Diana. We talked for a while and it came out in there just how better off they were without Will and how badly he'd hurt Spencer. Not just hurt him, but _beat_ him."

"And if you believe he bailed on Diana to go to college, you're an idiot." Alex interjected bluntly.

Chris sat up straight at that. "Don't you talk to me that way!"

"Then don't act like it!" Alex set his glass down on the coffee table and leaned forward, bracing his arms on his legs. "Spend five minutes with those two and there's no denying how much he loves her, Pop. She means the world to him. It's why he's still paying her bills, paying to keep her where she is. Cause if it was left up to William, she'd be in some state facility somewhere without any family to give a damn. I can't believe you really think that about him!"

All of a sudden it was like the fight drained out of Chris. He slumped back in his chair once more and his eyes drifted closed. His hand was clenched tightly around his glass. "I don't know what to think." He said in a low voice. "I don't know what I believe anymore."

The tension drained out of Scott as well. He blew out a breath and looked down to give himself a moment to gather his composure and find the words he wanted. Before he could speak up, Alex did. "Why don't you just forget all of that stuff, Pop? Just forget it and try to get to know who he is now. Don't worry about who he was or the stuff you think he did or any of that. Get to know the man he's become. Despite everything in life, he's grown up damn well."

"Don't think of him as a son." Scott suggested. "Look at him like another one of the lost people to come here. I think you'll be surprised by what you find. He's a smart, great kid."

"From what I'm understanding, he owes that to you." Looking up, Chris gave him a smile that was half embarrassed and half proud. "From what I see, he looks at you like a dad more than anyone else. You defend him like he's your son."

Scott shrugged one shoulder and sat back once more. "Much as I hate to say it, Sherlock pretty much raised himself. I just provide a little structure here and there, that's all." He trailed off, uncomfortable with this, and his mind caught on to something else that Chris had said. Something that he hadn't really noticed until just now. Furrowing his brows, he asked "Who's Chester?"

"You don't know?" Surprise lit Chris's face.

"The name's not familiar. Who is he?"

Chris hesitated a second before answering, looking uncomfortable, almost as if he weren't sure he _should _answer. "He…he's the one that, ah, that helped him out during college. Apparently the one that paid his bills."

Oh. _Oh_. That guy. Scott grimaced. He knew who that guy was, he'd just never known his name. "Oh. _Him_." Twin scowls grew on both Scott and Alex's faces. Scott swallowed down the rest of his drink to try and chase away the bitter taste in his mouth. If there was one thing he absolutely hated to think about, it was that part of Spencer's life. If he'd known who the bastard was that had used his baby brother back then, he would've gone and kicked he sonofabitch's ass. It was surprising, though, that Chris knew about him. Spencer had kept that secret better than any of his others. Scott and Alex only knew by chance and even they hadn't known his name. How had Chris? "How did you find out about Chester?"

"Warren." Chris answered immediately.

"_Warren_?" Scott couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. How had _Warren_ known? Then something came floating to the surface of Scott's mind. One bit of information, one memory, and his whole body went still. No. No fucking way. It couldn't be! Could it? He remembered going with Warren that one weekend to stay with a family member of his in California. Scott had gone to spend time with his friend and because it was so close to Caltech, just twenty minutes away, and he could pop in and see his brother. That had been the weekend he'd introduced Spencer and Warren to one another. The memory came to the forefront and Scott felt himself pale slightly. "Holy shit. Chester. Chester _Worthington_. He was Warren's Uncle."

"Yes."

So many things made sense in that moment. The animosity that existed between Spencer and Warren, almost form the first day. The way that anger had grown, never fading away. Why the two couldn't be in the same room without almost coming to blows. The old bastard who had taken a fourteen year old boy and turned him into his little kept boy had been Goddamn Chester fucking Worthington. And Warren had _known_. He'd known—and he'd never said a word.

Scott was up and moving before he even realized he was going to do it. He hadn't felt a rage like this for a long, long time. It carried him out of his office and down the hall. Unfortunately for Warren, he was in the TV room with the others and the door was wide open, giving Scott a clear view of them. He didn't even hesitate to march into the room, barely noting that Alex was right at his back. All he had eyes for was the man standing beside a recliner, bent down to say something to Betsy. "Warren!" Scott called out. The man who had been his best friend straightened up at the sound of his voice, a smile on his lips. "Scott…" His words were cut off when Scott's fist connected with his face.

The solid punch sent him stumbling back. He didn't even get a chance to recover before Alex stepped up and threw the next punch. His blow succeeded in sending Warren back and into the wall. Scott shot forward, one hand grabbing Warren's shirt, and he pinned him to the wall with an arm to the throat. Getting right up in his face, he snarled out "How long?"

"What the hell, Scott?" Warren demanded. His lip was bleeding. He reached up to try and move Scott's arm and found himself pulled forward and then slammed back again. Once more, Scott repeated his question. "I asked _how long_, you son of a bitch."

Alex stood sentry beside them, keeping the others from getting closer as well as watching to see what Warren's answer was. He was furious, too, but he was content to let Scott take the lead in this. And he knew, better than anyone here, that it was much safer to stay out of Scott's way when he was this pissed. The man could make an iceberg seem warm and soft.

Warren looked lost by the question. He shot a look to the audience that was watching, a room full of people that were all staring on in shock at seeing these two come to blows, and then his eyes went back to Scott. "What're you talking about? How long _what_?"

Leaning in until their faces were just inches apart, Scott hissed "How long did you know about Spencer and that perverted bastard you call an Uncle?" He shoved his arm a little harder into Warren's throat, just shy of cutting off his air. "How long did you know what that bastard was doing to my baby brother?"

Surprise widened Warren's eyes. There was a quick flash of caution and worry and then they were shuttered. Everything about the man tried to appear calming. Anyone else could've told him it was far too late for that. "Now, Scott, it's not what you think…."

"Not what I think?" Scott's voice was a low, furious hiss, his words private between them. Furious as he was, he wasn't going to go spreading this news to the whole household. "That man paid Spencer's bills, paid Diana's bills, set him up with housing, and gave him a Goddamn allowance, all in exchange for turning him into his personal sex toy. What part of that isn't what I think it is, Warren, huh? Now dammit, you answer me! _How long did you know_?"

Looking at Scott's face, Warren saw that there was no way he was going to just walk away from this. Scott was in a fury and there was nothing he could do. He could see he'd already lost his friend, no matter what his answer was. "I found out a year after it started." He admitted. Still, pride had him squaring his shoulders and trying to talk his way out of this anyways. "You have to understand, he's my family. Just like you want to protect Spencer, I have to protect my family. If word ever got out, it could've caused serious damage."

Alex couldn't control himself any longer when he heard those words. "Serious damage?" He practically snarled as he stepped up shoulder to shoulder with Scott so he could glare at Warren. "What about the damage to Spence, huh? What about what damage _he _had to deal with? He was a kid!"

"He wasn't a kid." Warren sneered. "Chester said there was no way he was the kid's first. He was too good, too damn _eager_."

A furious roar of rage that would've done Wolverine proud ripped from Scott. He flung Warren to the side, sending him crashing into the TV, and he launched at him, fist already flying.

It was only the arrival of Logan that kept things from getting any worse than they already were. He was the only one who dared to wade in and grab their usually calm, controlled leader and haul him out kicking and shouting obscenities. A low snarl from him warned Alex not to step in or he'd come yank him out too. Once the combatants were separated, others stepped up to help keep them apart.

Scott didn't bother struggling once he realized who it was that held him. There was no way he was getting away from Logan's grip. He settled for clenching his hands on the firm forearm that was banded across his waist. He glared at Warren, who was climbing to his feet, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other up on his bleeding mouth. Scott's voice turned hard and cold once more. "I want you out of this house."

The whole room went quiet. Everyone stared, stunned. "Excuse me?" Warren said.

"You heard me. Pack your shit and get out of here."

"You can't do this!"

"I can do exactly this." Scott straightened up and he drew his composure around himself, visibly hardening in front of them. His voice got even colder. "In my books, you're no better than the sadistic pedophile you protected. I won't have someone like that in this house. I want you gone before morning light." With that pronouncement, he spun on his heel and marched out of the room, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

* * *

_Well I hope you guys liked this one. I certainly did lol_

_TazzieLuv13: I'm sorry I made you cry! But, at the same time, strangely pleased ;) Glad you like this and thanks for the review! Made me giggle_

_Hisuiko: So glad you liked it! I've tried really hard to structure these arguments carefully. Hopefully that care still showed in this chapter as well. Thanks, hon!_

_readaddict123: He did get it all wrong, didn't he? Stupid idiot. It goes to show how sometimes things aren't always what we think they are. I think he has a LOT to make up for. Man better start working towards it!_

_ 4: I felt it was time for the truth to be there. I hope it shows a change in their relationship and that maybe, just maybe, things can improve a little. I'll have to see what Chris does. Sometimes men are so stubborn. (Trust me, I should know LOL)_

_DeputyDog: The littlest misconceptions can make the biggest difference. Sometimes we've got to learn to let things go and in the end, we might find out we were wrong all along!_

_IntoTheWilds: Ah, your review mad me literally LOL. Bits and a cork screw :D I giggled over that for EVER. You're fantastic, hon! I love it :D_

_sashathetech: I'm sorry you can't sleep, but I'm glad my stories give you something to do. I know the 'not sleeping' thing well. That's why I'm often writing at 2 am. That's actually when a lot of things get written. 2 am, and then when I'm having my first cup of coffee in the morning. Best writing times!_


	17. Chapter 17

_Here's a chapter that kind of expands on Chester. Really, it's a chapter for a backstory, that's about it. For those that wanted to know more about that, here it is!_

* * *

It was the call of nature that finally stirred Spencer out of sleep. He blinked his eyes open, giving them a moment to adjust to the low light of the boathouse. The fireplace was in front of him, the fire burning low. He took a second to just lay in the little nest of blankets they'd made and enjoy the sensation of being there with Remy's weight right up close behind him.

Earlier, Remy had snuck out while Spencer was still asleep on the couch and he'd snuck up to the main house and grabbed them a bunch of blankets, some clean clothes, and a bit of food. He'd managed all of it without being spotted, too, as he'd proudly announced. How the hell he managed that, Spencer had no idea, and he wasn't going to even bother guessing. He was just going to enjoy. When Spencer had woken up, still on the couch, Remy had been in the process of dragging down the mattress from the upstairs bedroom and placing it in front of the fireplace. He'd claimed that he was doing it because he absolutely refused to sleep on a hard floor, even with blanket cushion, unless he absolutely had to. But Spencer knew that Remy was doing it for him, knowing that Spencer's leg wouldn't hold up to lying on the ground too long. Just sleeping on the couch left it aching.

Remy had thought of almost everything, it seemed. From in his stash of stuff he'd pulled out Spencer's pain medication. There had been other things that he'd brought with him, too. Things that they'd definitely put to good use. Spencer felt the resulting ache from that now as he carefully sat up on the bed. _Well worth it, though. So very well worth it._

He felt Remy stir behind him, reacting to him leaving the bed, and he reached over, stroking softly over his hair. "Shh, Rem. I'll be right back. I just need to use the restroom."

Remy murmured something and settled back down into the blankets.

Very carefully, bracing on the coffee table, Spencer managed to leverage himself up to his feet. He shivered at being free from the blankets and quickly grabbed one of the shirts off the clean stack of clothes on the coffee table. He didn't really pay attention to what it was, just pulled it on. That was enough cover. Now that he was up, his need was making itself known even more. He quickly grabbed his cane and limped his way down to the bathroom.

He had just finished up washing his hands when he felt a sort of mental 'knock' at the edge of his shields. A quick check told him who the signature was. He dried his hands on the towel on the counter and lowered his shields just enough to accept the mind voice in. _/Yes, Jean? Is everything okay?/_

_/Hey, sweetie. Scott just asked me to see if I could find you. No one was quite sure where you went to/_ Jean's mental voice was warm and bright and soothing, as always, but there was something underneath it. Spencer stopped and leaned back against the bathroom counter. Closing his eyes, he focused on her and her emotions, able to feel them down the light link that she had to set up to speak with him. It only took a second to isolate and then recognize the emotions. Worry, sorrow. They had been strongest when she'd said Scott's name. _/Jean, what's wrong? Did something happen?/_

It took a second before she answered him. That only made his worry grow. Had something happened while they were down here? Dammit! Couldn't time go by without _something_ going on? He chewed on his lip and waited impatiently for her to come back. Finally, she did. _/Sorry, Spencer. Everyone is fine, no one's hurt. Well, no one but Warren/_

That only made his worry grow. _/Warren? What happened?/_

Jean quickly summarized what had happened in the TV room. When she was done, Spencer was left sitting there, stunned. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. He didn't know which part shocked him more. The fact that Scott now knew the truth, or how he'd reacted to it. He couldn't believe it! _/Are you kidding me? He actually kicked Warren out of the house?/_

_/He says to tell you that you can't change his mind, so don't try. I'm sorry, sweetie/_

He had no idea what to say or what to do. A part of him wanted to tell Scott not to throw away his friendship over something like this. Another part of him couldn't stop from feeling just a tiny bit pleased. That part of him wished a little that he'd been there to actually see Scott and Alex hit the smug little bastard. Spencer had ached for years to do something like that. To think that it had finally happened, and from his brothers no less, and he'd actually _missed_ it!

_/Spencer, are you okay?/_

The concerned thought broke in through Spencer's musings and he jolted slightly. _/Sorry, Jean. I'm fine. Just, ah, just tell Scott that we can talk about it tomorrow, if you don't mind/_ There was no way that he wanted to deal with it tonight. Maybe it was cowardly; he didn't really care. He wasn't going to go up there and deal with this. Not tonight. _/Also, would you please pass along that I won't be staying up in my room tonight. I'll be down at the boathouse if he absolutely needs me, but only if it's an emergency/_

A warm, amused feeling came from Jean and her mind voice turned teasing. _/I'll make sure no one disturbs you two. Enjoy your honeymoon, Spencer!/ _She chuckled one last time and broke the connection.

Heat filled Spencer's cheeks. Great. He was going to hear no end of the teasing tomorrow when he got around his brothers. Then again, maybe not. The blush faded and Spencer smiled just the slightest bit. Jean _was_ awfully protective. There was a very good chance she would warn them not to tease him about this, under threat of retribution, and no one wanted Jean mad at them. It was kind of funny how much she could cow the boys when she wanted to.

He pushed those thoughts away as he straightened up from the sink. Unfortunately, he couldn't push away the rest of the thoughts so easily. Now that he'd gotten past his initial worry and enjoyment at finding out that Scott hadn't just sided with him, but had actually _hit_ Warren and thrown him out of the house, the repercussion of it all sank in. That meant that Scott knew the name Spencer had always denied him. And, judging by what Jean had relayed and the flashes of memory she'd played for him, the people in that room probably had a pretty good guesstimate of what was going on, even if they didn't have the full story. And what was to keep Warren from blabbing now that he and Scott had fought over this? He could very well tell his twisted version of things to anyone that would listen before he finally left the house. It would be like him to do it.

Those thoughts ate at Spencer as he limped back out towards the living room. One of his hands absently rubbed at his thigh as he moved, trying to counter the ache that had spread there. He'd been using his leg a lot lately, especially the last couple days with all this walking, and then the past few hours here with Remy as well. They'd tried to accommodate his leg—and wasn't that an embarrassing thing to have to do—but there was really only so much that could be done. Even the pain pill he'd given in and taken wasn't quite doing the trick.

When he reached the bed, he propped his cane up against the coffee table once more and then bent, bracing his hand on the edge and trying to carefully lower himself down. Of course, it didn't work like that. The muscle spasmed and then twisted into a cramp and Spencer ended up thumping down hard on the ground right beside the bed. He didn't even care as his backside hit the cold ground. Both hands immediately went to his thigh and he bent down over top of it.

It was no surprise that his fall brought Remy awake. In a flash, the Cajun was out of the bed and at his side. He took one look and then moved to kneel and straddle Spencer's calf. His hands went to either side of Spencer's knee and started a firm, steady massage, moving gradually upward as he went. Spencer hissed and squeezed his eyes shut at the pain, but he dropped his own hands out of the way. The pain from Remy's hands was the good kind; the kind that meant the cramp was going to be eased away. All he had to do was wait it out. Hands curled into fists, eyes squeezed shut, that was exactly what Spencer did. He waited bit by agonizing bit until, under Remy's firm hands, the cramp started to fade.

Remy kept on massaging until he saw Spencer's body really relax. Then he slid his hands over his thigh one last time before letting go. "Let's get y' on up in de bed. Can't imagine dat floor feels all dat great."

"It's actually rather cold."

Spencer fought back his embarrassment as the two of them worked to get him up into the bed. He braced his hands on the edge of the mattress and lifted, drawing his hips back when he reached the top, with Remy bracing his leg the whole way. As soon as he was up, Remy was helping to turn his legs and then get a pillow under his knee to help get it in the most comfortable resting position. Once he was done, he bent and pressed a kiss to Spencer's knee. "Y' comfy, cher?"

"Yeah." Embarrassed, but comfortable. He flopped his head back on his pillow and let his eyes close once more. For a few minutes he just laid there, listening as Remy added a little more wood to the fire and slowly brought it back to a good blaze. Then he walked away somewhere, down the hall it sounded. Probably the bathroom. A few minutes later he was back, stopping off to shuffle through something, and then the bed dipped underneath his weight. Only, he didn't come up to Spencer's side like the young genius had expected. He was back by his legs. Spencer opened his eyes when Remy's hand curled around his ankle and lifted, propping his calf up to rest on Remy's thigh.

Remy was spreading a large towel out overtop the pillow that had been under Spencer's knee, sliding it up so that it also sat under Spencer's thigh. "Y' t'ink y' can lift y'r hips just a lil?"

It only fueled Spencer's embarrassment when he found he could only manage just a small lift before the cramp was threatening to come back. But Remy was fast and he slid the towel underneath his hips quickly. "Dere, go ahead and relax now." He carefully lifted Spencer's leg once more and settled it back down on the now towel covered pillow and bed.

"What are you doing?" Spencer asked curiously.

Reaching down to the side of the bed, Remy lifted up a bottle and waved it at him. It took Spencer a second to see what it was. Oil? He'd brought down oil? Seeing the questions on his face, Remy answered them while he popped the top on the bottle and poured some of the oil in his palm. "I had a feeling dat y'r leg might act up on y'. I seen how hard y' been pushing y'rself lately, cher." He rubbed his palms together, spreading and warming the oil. Serious eyes lifted up towards Spencer's face. "Y' gotta take care of y'rself. Push too hard and y'll just end up hurting y'rself more."

"I know." And it drove him crazy. He hated that things that had once been simple now came with such a price tag to them.

Remy paused with his hands hovering just over Spencer's knee. Love flowed from him and into Spencer. "Dere aint no reason f' y' to feel embarrassed about dis, Spencer. None at all. I aint got no problems wi' y'r leg or wi' doin' dis f' y'. Gives me an excuse t' put m' hands on y', anyways." He chuckled and his hands finally made contact with Spencer's knee. They started the same massage as before, only just a little softer and a little slower, taking his time this time. "In case y' aint noticed, I like touchin' y'. I t'ink I might enjoy dis as much as y', me."

The heat of Remy's body and Spencer's skin worked to warm the oil. That warmth combined with the firmness and smoothness of Remy's touch was enough to have Spencer forgetting any sense of embarrassment underneath the wave of honest pleasure. Oh man, that felt _good_. "I highly doubt that." He murmured to Remy.

That brought another chuckle. After that, Remy seemed content not to talk. His hands took their time, working all over and around Spencer's knee, even behind it, before moving up towards his thigh. He was humming slightly to himself as he worked and Spencer could feel the happy contentment and warm pleasure that Remy got from doing this.

For a little while Spencer just let himself lay there and feel. Everything was just sort of perfect right then. The comfortable bed and blanket nest they had here, the fire in the fireplace. It was starting to get dark outside, leaving the room lit only by the glow of firelight. He had a wonderful, gorgeous, naked man rubbing all the pain out of his leg, leaving his muscles feeling like putty, and he could feel the love from Remy like the heat from his own personal fire. Everything was just sort of perfect. Maybe it was because of all those things that Spencer found himself suddenly starting to talk. He felt comfortable enough here, safe and protected, treasured, that he thought he could handle telling Remy about his conversation with Jean and what was behind it all.

Spencer opened his eyes to slits and looked down at his partner, watching the way the firelight really lit the auburn hair. When he spoke, his voice was just a low murmur, suited to the mood of the room. "I spoke with Jean earlier, right after I finished in the bathroom."

"Mm."

The sound Remy made could've just meant 'okay', or it could've been more of a question. Spencer decided to take it as a question. "She was checking to figure out where I was for Scott. When we were done talking, she said she'd make sure no one disturbed us and to enjoy our honeymoon."

That got a reaction. Remy looked up at him and grinned. "I like de sound of dat."

"I thought you might." He smiled back at him. Then, as Remy bowed back to his task, moving a little more up his thigh, the smile faded away and Spencer tried to figure out how to tell this next part. "She, ah, she told me some…" He paused when Remy hit a sore spot, riding out the ache until he could speak again. "…some things that had happened. I, um, well, my brothers apparently attacked Warren."

"_Quoi_?" Remy's head shot up, eyes wide. His mouth dropped open slightly. "Dey attacked Warren? Seriously?"

"It would seem so."

"And we missed it? _Merde! _Would've loved to see dat."

Hearing his own thoughts echoed back to him made Spencer chuckle. "I kind of felt the same way. I've held back on hitting him for so long and when Scott and Alex both do it, I'm not even there to see or to help. Doesn't see quite fair."

"She say why dey did it?" Remy asked.

Now they got to the tricky part. Spencer bit on his lip and looked down at Remy, watching him in silence for a few beats. In what probably seemed like a random topic shit to Remy, Spencer suddenly asked "Did I ever explain to you, or has anyone else said anything, about how I supported my mother and I through college?"

Remy paused for a second. Eventually he shook his head, his hands resuming their work. "_Non_, not directly. Heard de t'ings Warren said, plus dat lil bit y' gave when we sat on de patio dat day. Otherwise, no. Not a t'ing."

"I was just shy of fourteen when I started college. William had already been gone three and a half years by then and Mom and I had really learned how to stretch things. She still worked on occasion, not all of her days were bad at the time, but more and more she was starting to spend all day either in bed or with all her book in her office. I budgeted at night, while she was sleeping, and I worked to make sure that the money we had and the money in the bank always covered things as best as possible. But, things were getting tight. I was worried about going to college and leaving her all on her own, and worried about whether or not things would get paid for and what would happen when she finally wasn't able to work at all anymore."

Worried was a small word for it. He'd been terrified. "The scholarship I had and the grants that I'd diligently applied for had nicely covered the cost of my tuition and books, as well as some on campus housing, but I still needed money to eat on, plus money to get home to Mom and then money to give her to help pay for things. That kind of money isn't easy to come by."

Remy shifted a little higher, settling right over Spencer's scars. "It's a hell of a t'ing f' a kid to have to t'ink about." He murmured. Bless him, he wasn't questioning why Spencer was telling him this, or getting angry for having something dark intrude on their quiet time. He was just listening, the same as he did every time Spencer told him anything. Remy had to be one of the best listeners that Spencer had ever met. It was one of his great qualities.

"It is." Spencer agreed. "I went about it the practical way, first. I tried to find work, tried to do anything, but no one wanted to hire a fourteen year old. I even went to this seminar that Caltech had to try and teach people how to better budget and how to make proper investments. That was where I, where I met Chester. He was their guest speaker. The man was brilliant. I hung on every word he said. When it was over, I went up and asked him questions, too, and he didn't seem the least bit off put by my age. He answered every question I had and even offered to get together so we could speak again and he could show me a few more things." Pausing, Spencer looked up at the ceiling, caught up in his own memories. "I don't know if youth is a good enough excuse for my stupidity. I can look back now and see how he reeled me in. I can recognize the signs. But back then, I was so blind to it. As I started getting together with him more, learning about investing from him, I didn't even realize that he was trying to court me. Or what he had planned. Not until the night he invited me over to his house."

Spencer had to stop here. He had to give himself a minute to keep his control. For a while he just lay there and let himself soak up the sensations from Remy's massage and from his steady emotions. Remy had moved up higher now, almost to his hip, and Spencer's muscles were slowly turning to mush.

It was almost ten minutes before Spencer managed to find his voice again. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and kept his eyes on the ceiling for this next part. "I'm not going to get into the details, or break down the whole conversation. I really don't want to get into that. But it was after dinner in Chester's study when he put forward his proposition. He told me that he'd done his research, looked me up, and he'd found out just how much trouble I was in. How tight bills were at home and how hard a time I was having paying for anything here at school. He even knew how much I spent to travel home on weekends. And he knew that I was the one trying to pay bills, not Mom. How, I still have no idea. But he knew."

A scowl twisted Remy's features. "Let me guess. He had a solution f' y', too, _non_?"

"He did. He offered to pay for all of it. Mom's medical bills, her medications, the mortgage, the bills, all of it. He even offered to set me up in a better apartment near school, to make sure I always had food money, and even a little allowance. He was basically offering me everything I could ever want right there on a silver platter. All he wanted in exchange…"

When Spencer trailed off, Remy softly filled in the rest. "Was y'."

Spencer nodded. "Was me. Anytime, anywhere, anything. I was to be his." The thought still sickened him, even after all these years. "He gave me a week to think about it. I fought it at first, insisting there was no way in hell I'd do it. I wasn't going to become some private concubine for this dirty old man. But I kept thinking about everything that was due. The power bill that I had to find a way to pay or Mom was going to lose power. When the week was up…I told him yes. I became his boy for the next four years. That was how long it took me to squirrel away enough money to cover Mom's expenses when I had her committed when I turned eighteen."

The hands on Spencer's leg never stopped moving, but he felt Remy bent over and press a kiss against his hip. "_Désolé, mon amour._"

Spencer wasn't done yet, though. He'd had a purpose for telling Remy this story. "I'm not done yet, Rems." He warned him. Nervously, he buried his hands in the blankets on either side of him, trying to keep from wringing them together. "When I was fifteen, after I'd been with Chester for a year, I was over at his house one afternoon. He, ah, he had a room there he liked to leave me in sometimes. Well, not just a, a room. More like a…dungeon. He'd been slowly introducing me and weaning me into the S&M lifestyle. He liked the whole Master/slave scenario."

That definitely got a reaction out of Remy. His hands froze over Spencer's leg and a wave of sorrow ran over him. "Oh, Spencer."

"It's okay. I did okay. I'd learned how to use my empathy enough by then that I could open myself up, let myself feel the pleasure he got, and it made it easier." At least until he was alone again and the shame would eat him alive. But that was a different part of the story. One for a different time. Tonight, he was telling something else. "Anyways, he had sent me to that room to put on some things. We were playing pretty lightly. I was in just leather pants and a shirt and he'd sent me in for the cuffs, the collar, and the ball gag. I put them on like he wanted and I came back out. I hadn't heard anyone come in. Seemingly, neither had he. I went into the living room, playing my part perfectly, going down to my knees beside his chair with my equipment all on and offering my wrists up for inspection. He had just hooked them behind my back when someone demanded 'Uncle Chester, what are you doing?' We both looked up at the same time. He didn't seem to care, but I was horrified. Chester just looked as calm as could be. He looked at the kid and he," Pausing, Spencer cleared his throat and tried to prepare himself for what was going to come next. Something told him Remy wasn't going to react very well. "He said 'It's considered polite to knock and wait to be announced instead of just barging in on someone, Warren. It's not my fault what you happen to see when you exercise bad manners.'"

"Warren?" Remy sat up almost completely straight now. His eyes went wide and his whole body radiated his shock. "As in—_Warren, _Warren?"

"As in Warren Worthington, the third. Nephew to Chester Worthington, who was brother to Warren Worthington, the second."

"_Mon Dieu_. What'd he do?"

Spencer shrugged one shoulder. "I don't really know. I was sent to wait in the little room while the two spoke. It took almost an hour before Chester joined me. He never told me what went on in there; we just went about our night like usual. After that, whenever family was in town, Chester would come to my apartment to see me. I didn't see Warren again until I was, oh, seventeen and two months. He and Scotty came out for a weekend and Scott wanted to introduce us."

"Introduce y'? _Merde_." Too agitated to sit, Remy pushed up off the bed and to his feet, temper pouring off him. He paced away and then spun back to face the bed. "Dat _connard_ just left y' to his fuckin' Uncle and den had de gall to show up wi' Scotty and act like nothin' was going on? Like he didn't just ditch a child wi' a fuckin' pedophile?"

Carefully sitting up, Spencer adjusted his leg on the blankets, giving himself something to do to keep from having to look up and meet Remy's eyes. "Pretty much." He said. "We pretended we'd never met before, but it was pretty much hate at first sight. He hated me for what he saw me as and I hated him for apparently just knowing and walking away. We've fought ever since then."

Remy flung his hands up and paced away again. For a few minutes he just muttered out curses that Spencer only faintly caught the gist of. What little he understood—as Remy was using a mix of languages to vent his anger with—were enough to let him know that it was a damn good thing Warren wasn't anywhere nearby for Remy to carry out any of those threats. Abruptly Remy spun and looked at Spencer, his temper glowing in his eyes. Realization had lit them as well. "Dat's why Scotty kicked his ass t'night?"

"It would appear so. Not just hit him, either, but threw him out of the house." At Remy's surprise, Spencer nodded. "Oh yeah. Jean says that Scotty told him to be out of the house by morning."

"Good f' him! It's better'n he deserves, dat no good f' nothin'…" Once more he trailed off into foreign curses that Spencer only understood parts of.

When Remy finally wound down again, when he seemed to have settled just a little, Spencer spoke once more. "You're probably going to hear bits and pieces of this around the house tomorrow. That's part of why I'm telling you tonight, when it's just us. I wanted you to hear it from me, not second or third hand." Dropping his head, he stared down at his hands in his lap. "I just wish this could've held off for a day or so. I didn't really want this kind of stuff, you know, interfering tonight." He paused, snorting softly, fingers twisting together. "So much for a romantic night, eh? Between my leg and this, I just keep finding ways to throw things off course."

Remy moved so silently that Spencer didn't even hear him come over to the bed. But the bed dipped and Spencer found Remy right there all of a sudden, reaching out to take his hands. "Spencer, _mon amour, _look at me. _S'il tu plait_?"

How could he deny that request, asked in such a soft, loving tone. Spencer made himself lift his head and meet Remy's eyes. What he saw there warmed his heart.

"What y' told me, it aint gonna change a damn t'ing between us. I love y', Spencer Reid. _Je t'aime._ Dis aint gonna change dat. And I'm honored dat y' trust me enough to tell me." Lifting Spencer's hands, he pressed a kiss to the back of each. Then he brought their eyes together once more. "Y' hear me, Spencer?"

"I hear you, Remy." He answered in a husky voice.

Remy smiled widely. "Good. Now, I want y' to do somet'ing f' me."

Curious, Spencer tipped his head a little. "What?"

"I want y' to lay back and let me wipe down de rest of de oil so we don't spread it all over de bed. Den, y' and I are gonna push all dis bullshit to de side. We're gonna f'get about Warren, about dis Chester, about Scotty and Alex and de whole damn house up dere. We're gonna f'get dat anything else in de world exists. T'ink y' can do dat f' me?"

A corner of Spencer's mouth quirked up a little. "I think I can damn well try."

"If I can't distract y' enough t' f'get it all, den I've lost m' touch." Remy teased, his voice deepening and his accent thickening. Just the sound was enough to have Spencer shivering. He lay back on the blankets at Remy's direction and let his lover use the towel that had been under him to start to wipe the excess oil off his skin. Remy's strokes weren't just practical, but teasing as well. By the time the towel was tossed to the side and Remy was sliding up his body, skin rubbing over skin, Spencer had forgotten everything else in the world outside of this bed. He cupped Remy's face between his hands and drew him in for a kiss full of heat and passion, love and promise, and he gave himself over to the emotions inside him. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with everything else. Tonight…tonight was for them.

* * *

_Hope that you guys enjoyed that!_

_ 4: LoL I'm glad that you liked both parts of the last chapter. I thought the Scott fight would surprise people. Not the typical reaction for that man, really, but appropriate I think. To answer your question about the story, though, I actually DO have a sequel planned for this branch. I've been toying with this idea of letting Spencer and Alex maybe spending some time in Sinister's labs, as we all know how that man loves the Summers family. Not sure, though, if I could write Sin. :/ Seems difficult. But I'm willing to try. I'm also open to any suggestions of what you'd like to see! Feel free to ever PM me any ideas of things you'd like to see happen!_

_REBD: I agree wholeheartedly with you._

_Hisuiko: lol I'll pass along your thanks to her. She keeps me putting up things even when I don't think they're great. She's like my second muse. Glad to see you're still enjoying the story :)_

_readaddict123: :D:D:D Isn't swellegant a fun word? I learned it from Deadpool on Ultimate Spiderman (yes, yes I'm a nerd lol) I also fell in love with how he says he's going to "unalive" people. *snickers*_

_IntoTheWilds: I had so much fun writing that fight scene. You've got no idea how satisfying that felt LMAO. I almost bounced in my seat the entire time. I probably would've looked really, really fun to anyone if they'd been able to see me ;) Glad you enjoyed it as much as I did!_

_TazzieLuv13: Hope this chapter satisfied your request to know more about the Chester/Spencer affair!_

_Well, my little lovely dears, I really hope that you've enjoyed this. Depending on how things go as I fill in the outline for what's next, there's 1-2 chapters left. I have everything all lined up, outlined and ready to go. I just need to go and actually WRITE it :P You guys have just been fantastic and you've really, really kept me going. You've helped me finish up this story faster than any of my other stories, lol. All of your reviews, they're fantastically wondiferus and I just, you're great, darlings. Just great!_


	18. Chapter 18

_Sorry it took me so long! I won't make excuses, just let you lovelies go on and read. Enjoy!_

* * *

Morning found Spencer and Remy in Scott's office. The two had already had their walk, showered together afterwards, and were now in here working on the case. That was where Scott found them when he came strolling in. Spencer was standing in front of the board, scribbling quickly while Remy answered his questions about the victim at the hospital. There wasn't a whole lot that Remy could tell him but every little bit helped. With each new piece of information, more and more of the big picture was emerging. Spencer could see something forming out of all these little facts. When he was done, Spencer planned to send a copy of the profile to his team. They could use it as they needed. But, more importantly they could send it to the local officers here. Spencer knew the local LEO's wouldn't pay any attention to it if he was the one to bring it in.

He had just finished jotting down the last bit that Remy had given him when he heard someone over by the office door. A glimpse up showed him that Scott had arrived. Seeing him brought back to life the nerves that he'd been suppressing all morning long. This was definitely one thing that he wasn't looking forward to. He didn't want to have this conversation with his brothers; either one of them. While he knew he had to, there was a part of him that wished he could just ignore this and let it go. That part argued that what's done was done and they should just move on. He wasn't stupid enough to believe that it would really work that way.

Even if he had been, a look at Scott's face would've told him otherwise. The man looked serious and furious all at the same time. Spencer closed his hand around the dry erase marker he held and he fought to sound as casual as he possibly could. "Good morning, Scott."

"Spencer." Scott stared at him for just a moment before turning and marching over towards his desk. Temper sat in every line of his body.

Remy casually rose from his seat. On silent feet he ghosted over to Spencer and took up a place at his side. His steady, warming presence was just the thing Spencer needed to help himself get this started. He leaned into the hand that Remy settled in the small of his back while at the same time lifting his chin and making himself look over at the back of his brother. Still in that same casual voice, he said. "I heard about what happened with Warren."

Scott didn't even turn around. "I figured as much."

"Scott…" Jesus, this was harder than he'd thought it would be. Spencer clenched his hand on the top of his cane. "I never wanted that. I never wanted you to know."

That finally got a reaction from the man. Boy, did it get a reaction. "Why?" Scott snapped. He spun towards Spencer, anger in every line of his face. "Explain it to me, Spencer, because I sure don't understand. Why the hell do you never come to me and tell me these things? Why do I always have to find out afterwards? Don't you know that you can come to me for anything? I would've helped you!"

"I didn't want you to know."

"Why?"

Spencer looked right at him and knew that he deserved the unvarnished truth here. The time for hiding things was gone. "Because I couldn't handle if it changed how you looked at me." He said bluntly. At Scott's surprised look, he shrugged one shoulder and shifted nervously. But he _was _going to get this out. "When everything was at its worst, when I wasn't even sure I could keep dealing with it all, I could come and visit with you or Alex and I got to just be Spencer for a little while, the baby brother. I could laugh and play and tease and fight and know that there was still one place in my life that hadn't been poisoned yet. One place where people looked at me and didn't see something broken and dirty. I was terrified I'd lose that."

His candidness seemed to have stunned Scott. At the least, it took away the sharp edge of his anger. Scott never was good at staying angry anyways. He deflated in front of him and the usual love and exasperation that Scott felt around his brothers came to the forefront now, pushing back the burning anger of before. "You wouldn't have. Don't you realize by now that nothing's going to get rid of me? You're stuck with me, Sherlock."

Spencer shrugged one shoulder. "I couldn't risk it. I never knew when it would be enough .When you'd decide that you've given up too much."

"Given up?"

"You've always been my rock, Scotty." Spencer looked up and gave a wry chuckle that ached just a little around the edges. "You think I don't know all the things you've done for me? Given up for me?" He swallowed down the lump in his throat. Remy's hand rubbed over his back lightly, soothing him down, helping him to get the next bit out. Spencer kept his eyes right on Scott's face, needing him to see just how serious he was about all of this. "I know who my Dad is, and it sure as hell isn't William or the Colonel. Do you think you could go to the man you look at as your father figure, after being bailed on by two before, and say anything that might jeopardize that relationship?"

Silence fell over the room. Scott looked stunned and Spencer was horribly uncomfortable. Discussing feelings wasn't always the easiest thing for them to do. Lately, it had been happening just way too often and Spencer swore they were about at their quota for the next _year_, at least. Feeling unbearably awkward in that moment, Spencer did as he always had, as he had used to do more often. He retreated into the world of facts and statistics to help him move away from a world of emotions that always left him so unsure and feeling vulnerable. Clearing his throat, he switched their topic entirely by saying "I have most of the profile complete." At the surprised look from Scott, he added "While there are still some variables that need to be added in and some information that needs gathered, I have the bare bones of a profile for the local attacks. It would be more accurate if you could find out if there were any other attacks that have been reported or any that might not have been reported and that we don't know about yet."

"I can make some calls round de city." Remy offered. He didn't stop Spencer's subject change, knowing that the man had reached his limit right now.

Scott recognized the same thing. He had to clear his throat a few times to try and to get rid of the lump that had built there, and when he spoke his voice was just slightly rougher than normal, but he latched on to the subject change as well. "I know someone who works downtown. I can call him and see if he'll check around for me."

"I planned on asking Garcia if she'd look. She'll be able to find any reports faster than anything." Spencer said. He dropped his gaze down to the map spread out on the table in front of him. His attention was making the shift now back to profiler and off of brother and the same things he'd been thinking about before came racing back. Almost absently he traced a few marks on the map with the capped part of his pen. His voice was just a little distant when he spoke. "They're going to strike again."

"What?" Scott asked sharply. He knew Spencer wouldn't just say that without really believing it was true.

Spencer kept running over the same lines, trying to organize his thoughts and catch that one, elusive bit of information that seemed to keep evading him. While he thought, he answered Scott's question. "The anti-mutant rally yesterday is going to have stirred things up in the city. They're going to react to it. How can they not? It speaks towards everything they feel." Biting his lip, Spencer tipped his head. "There's something about them that's bugging me."

"What is it?"

"I don't know yet. Just, something." And that was frustrating him to no end. He tried to push that aside and focus on what he _did _know. "They're more likely to strike in a high mutant area. Is there anything going on in town today? Any events that are happening from the mutant side in response to yesterday's rally?"

"I'm not sure."

Remy slid his hand up Spencer's back and gave a brief squeeze to the back of his neck before letting go. "I can call some people, see if dere's anyt'ing planned. Give me a minute." He pressed a quick kiss to Spencer's cheek and moved away towards the other side of the room. Spencer flushed just slightly at the warm feeling the man had left behind. Scott caught that flush and he couldn't help but smile. No matter what else was going on, seeing his baby brother so much in love made him happy, and knowing that the man had essentially been on a little honeymoon last night just left too much open for teasing. He strolled over to join Spencer by the map, but he slanted an amused look his direction. "Aren't you two just cute?" He teased.

The heat in Spencer's cheeks grew a little brighter. "Shut up."

"Oh, real verbose there, Spencer."

The young genius shot a mock glare to him. "How about this, then? Bite me."

Scott shook his head and made a soft 'tsk' sound. "You've been spending too much time around Alex. Your vocabulary is deteriorating. Or are your brain cells just feeling a little…fried this morning? I thought I detected a power surge in the house last night. I thought maybe it had affected you or something."

Spencer's cheeks were flaming by now. There _had_ been a slight power surge last night, only it hadn't affected him. He'd been the one to cause it. Spencer shot a glare at his brother and contemplated how much damage he could do if he loaded something with electrical energy and used it like a Taser against his brother. That urge grew stronger when he saw Scott's grin grow wider.

Luckily for all parties, Remy came walking back over then, interrupting any potential fight. "Dere's gonna be a mutant rally downtown today. Dey're gonna speak out against de t'ings de haters said yesterday, kind of deir way of getting deir half of de story told. Dey're meeting in a half an hour."

Immediately Spencer forgot about his play fight with Scott. His eyes shot up to Remy. "That's where they'll strike."

Scott looked unsure about it. "With a whole crowd of mutants?" He asked skeptically.

Nodding, Spencer turned back towards him, one hand moving through the air to gesture in his eagerness as he spoke. "They won't be able to resist. It won't take much to separate one from the group, or to find some straggler, and if they drug them as they usually do, it's easy to take them away without being seen."

There was no doubt on Scott's face. He took his brother at his word and trusted that he knew what he was talking about. Plus, what he said made sense. It wasn't a matter of debating the information anymore; now it was time to act. "I'll gather some teams and we'll go patrol today. If we're lucky, we can keep people safe from all the threats. It's going to be dangerous for them anyways."

Before he could move away, Spencer reached out and grabbed his arm. He made his voice firm when he said "I want to come with you."

"Absolutely not."

"I'm not asking, Scott." On this, Spencer would not back down. He avoided looking at Remy, knowing his partner wasn't going to be happy about this either. "Short of tying me down somewhere, you can't make me stay here. I want to come with you. I _need_ to."

For a long moment the two just stared at each other, neither one willing to bend. It was Scott who finally did, though. He could see on Spencer's face that he wasn't going to back down on this. It was important to him. The little shit probably would find a way to go after them if they did leave him behind. Much better to just let him come with where he could keep an eye on him and know where he was. "Fine." Scott spat out. He lifted a finger and pointed it right in Spencer's face. "But you go nowhere alone, do you hear me? And you wear a communicator, just like everyone else. I want you in contact at all times. Or I swear, Sherlock, I'll take your cane and beat you with it."

"Understood."

Scott gave him one last look before turning and hurrying out of the room. In doing so, he missed the slight gleam in Spencer's eye. If he'd seen it, he never would've let his brother leave the house, no matter what it took. He would've recognized that Spencer had something planned, something that could only lead to trouble. But he didn't see it. He was too focused on planning who to bring with them to town. Later, he'd curse himself for not paying more attention.

* * *

Rallies always carried high emotions with them. Mutant rallies more so than any other. Though it surprised many people to hear it, Spencer had always noticed that the emotions of other mutants were stronger than those of everyone else. Whether that was something to do with his powers, if he were just more sensitive to the emotions of mutants, or whether there was something in mutant genetics that made them feel stronger than other people, Spencer didn't know. But standing here at the edge of this rally he had to yank his shields up higher than normal just to keep himself from getting swept away on the tide of their emotions. He struggled with it briefly until Remy slipped a hand in his free one and Alex settled a hand on his shoulder. Those touches helped to ground him enough that he had the strength to yank his shields up high and tight.

These two were the ones that had been cast as his babysitters. Well, technically, _Alex_ had been cast in that role. Remy was just beside him because, well, because that's where they both liked to be. Both wanted to be together in the midst of this. They understood one another and they knew how hard this was going to be for each of them and they knew they'd handle it better if they stuck together. Plus, it allowed them to keep an eye on one another.

At least, normally that would be Spencer's thoughts. Today, not so much. Today, he was scrambling to try and find a way to get Remy to go wander off for a little bit. Because Spencer had something that he wanted to do and doing it with Remy at his side wasn't possible. Alex, he wasn't so worried about. Even with his cane he knew he could still manage to give Alex the slip. Losing people in a crowd was a skill Spencer had learned a very long time ago. When you're a scrawny kid with bullies chasing you, you learn how to lose yourself in a crowd. Every geeky kid at school learns that ability. Being the youngest kid around and the one most easily picked on, Spencer had just learned it faster and better than most.

The rally was just getting going. They weren't anything formal, just a crowd gathered together near the Josephine Shaw Lowell Memorial Fountain at Bryant Park. They were spread out through the grass, mutants from all over, hoping to get the chance to say their piece, to speak up for their rights. Someone was currently up at the head of the group, standing up on the stage there and ranting about what the anti-mutant group had said yesterday. Spencer tuned the words out; rallies like this had never appealed to him. He'd seen too much harm happen because of them. They got people stirred up, emotions sent high, and someone inevitably got hurt.

Everything that Spencer had learned about human behavior as a profiler told him that the men who were behind the attacks here, who had attacked him, were somewhere around this group. They would be somewhere at the edges, patrolling, looking for an easy victim to pick off. There was no way he was going to get a good look, though, unless he could get the hell away from his watchdogs.

A quick scan of the area and Spencer found himself just what he needed. He battled back the slight guilt he felt about what he was about to do. Everyone was absolutely going to kill him when this was said and done with. But he had no choice. He had to do this. He had to do what he felt was the only thing he could, no matter what. Keeping that in mind, Spencer discreetly steered them towards the left, trying to make it look like he was just walking, doing the same as them. He broke his hold on Remy's hand under the cover of reaching up to push some of his hair back from his face. He kept that hand free by reaching into his ever present messenger bag—he always carried it with him when he left the house, it held so many things he might need—and pulling out a bottle of water. Neither man thought anything strange as Spencer stopped to take a drink.

Discreetly, he watched as Remy and Alex both scanned around them. A group was moving towards them, on the left, and behind that group was a light meant for when the area got dark. Spencer gathered up just a tiny bit of power and he reached down, under the ground to where the line ran to that light. A little touch and he sent the surge of electricity through the line and up to the light. The light buzzed on and then, with the surge, it pushed it hard enough that the light gave a great pop and sparks danced from it. A few people jumped and screamed and, just as Spencer had hoped for, both Alex and Remy shot their attention straight to it. With their attention there, Spencer took a step back and then turned to melt into the group that was passing. He used them as cover to pass over to another group and that gave him just enough distance between him and his 'guards' that he could melt into another group and move as quickly as his leg could manage.

He had to give them credit; they were quick on the uptake. It only took a moment before Alex's voice came over the comm, sharp and slightly annoyed "_Volt, you damn well better have just stepped away to the bathroom or something._"

The nickname had Spencer scowling just a little. Alex had called him that teasingly, just to annoy him, when he'd first come into his powers. He tried to tell Spencer it was an awesome codename. No matter how many times Spencer told him he didn't want it, Alex persisted in using it. It was bad enough that even Scott used it sometimes now when using their actual names was a bad idea. Now wasn't the time to protest it, though. Right now, he navigated around one of the tables in front of him and moved out of the crowd he was in and stepped up beside another group, trying to move as casually as possible. This was a hell of a lot harder than normal. He hadn't had practice being evasive with this damn limp. Casting a quick glance over his shoulder to see if he'd been followed or not, he answered his brother. "Of course I did. Just a quick break, that's all. I'll find you when I'm done." On that, he was telling the truth. He'd find them when he was done.

Scott's voice came next and boy, did he sound _pissed_. "_Volt, get your ass back with the group._"

Spencer stopped at the street, giving the crowds another look. He'd been watching this whole time, profiling as he moved, trying to see if he could catch anything. But there was nothing that stuck out. No one except the usual people that might be able to create trouble. None of them were any faces he recognized, though. However, "_Cyke, I see two people are moving up through the center rear of the crowd. Black and white beanie and sunglasses on one and the partner has a bright red jacket. Both are armed and they look like trouble._" He warned.

_"On it."_ came Bobby's reply. With him came Warren's _"I see them."_

There, those were taken care of. Not only that, but it would have Alex looking for him in a wrong area. Spencer quickly moved away, just to make sure he wasn't anywhere near there when Alex came looking for him.

If he wasn't seeing the guys in the crowds and the rally had already been started when they arrived, it meant one of three things. They were hiding well and he'd missed them, they hadn't showed, or they already had their victim. Something told him it wasn't the first two. But here, in this open park, there were no real areas for them to pull a victim off to. That meant that they'd have to be a little further out. Spencer looked around and tried to think of any space that would afford them the privacy they'd need. There was always the chance that the guys had picked someone, shoved them in a car and drove off, but he didn't want to think of that. If that was it, there was no hope in finding them. He had to think as if they were still somewhere nearby.

Just up ahead, something caught Spencer's attention and he froze. A second later he was moving as quickly as he could manage. He saw a group crossing the street and slipped in to walk with them. When something created a break in traffic it was best to hurry and use it with them and not wait around to try and get people to stop for you on your own. Once across the street, he looked in at the building in front of him. A parking garage. An absolute perfect place. Valets were easy to pay to leave an area alone for a little while so you could do what you wanted.

In his ear, Spencer could still hear his brothers occasionally demanding that he rejoin them. They didn't press it too much, needing to keep the lines open for serious business. Spencer was counting on that. He knew they couldn't nag him too much because they had real work to do. Coddling him wasn't a luxury they could have right at the moment. No, they'd just vent at him later. That was fine. He could handle that. Spencer heard as Ororo and Rogue found and stopped two more anti-mutant activists from causing trouble. He listened to their voices and what was going on as he forced his leg to keep moving. Very carefully, he opened up his empathy enough to try and get just a general feel of the parking garage. He didn't want the basic emotions around him. Those, he catalogued and dismissed. What he was looking for was very specific. He searched for it as he walked. When he actually found it, he startled in surprise. Fear, low and groggy, mixing in with a panic that was growing sharper and surrounded by that angry-excited-righteous-fanatical feel that still haunted him sometimes.

It stunned him enough that he almost got himself in serious trouble as he stepped past the next car. Thank God for his sparring lessons with Alex. Those had heightened his reflexes enough that now, he reacted automatically when he sensed something moving towards him. Because of that, the blow that would've knocked him out only caught the side of his head and his shoulder, sending him flying into the wall. He caught himself and quickly twisted, body already bracing. What he found had him wanting to curse. There were three men from his nightmares and one of them was holding a young girl who looked no more than twelve. Spencer's blood ran cold when he saw the gun pressed against the girl's black hair. Her wide, blue eyes looked pleadingly at him and he could see the glazed look there that told him that she was drugged, though she looked to be fighting it.

The tall blond, the leader of the group, was standing beside the panel van they were using to cover them in this corner. The van was tall and long and it made a perfect shelter here. They'd parked it three spaces over from the corner, leaving them a wide area in which to do what they wanted, away from any cameras and out of immediate view of anyone. There was a partition at the front of the cars on this row, separating them from the next row. On that row there were two trucks and another van all parked, adding another screen of shelter. Essentially, Spencer was trapped.

The guy grinned broadly when he looked over Spencer. "Well look here, boys. Look who stumbled over us. It's our old friend!"

The other blond, the one that was slender like Spencer and the one who was holding the gun, looked furiously at him. "You! You're the fucking one that got our buddy arrested!"

IT was the guy with black hair, the one who had swung the bat at him to try and take him down, that held Spencer's attention. He was the one that had terrified Spencer the most. "Oh, I'm gonna love this." He crowed in that sickly excited voice. Just the sound of it had Spencer wanting to shudder.

_This time is different. You're not helpless this time! You're not drugged!_ Spencer reminded himself. _You're not alone, either. Use the damn comm and call for backup._ He couldn't just do it outright, though. If he did, they'd probably kill the girl and him and run. And he couldn't just use his powers without risking them either shooting the girl or her getting caught up in the jolt of whatever he did. This had to be done very, very carefully. Spencer licked his lips and stayed pressed against the wall, trying to keep them thinking of him as weak. That could work for him. He adjusted his grip on the cane and tried to ignore the pulsing pain in the side of his head from the bat. He chose his words very, very carefully. "So this is what a group of tough guys like you does?" He asked them, hoping to God the team was listening. "Hide out in parking garages and ambush helpless people?"

"What can I say?" The leader sneered at him. He looked back at the girl and his grin grew. "We all have our part to play for the greater good. Even if it means working from the shadows sometimes."

"Oh, yeah. I can really see how it helps the greater good to attack a child." He looked at the girl and tried not to let them see how much he was scared for her. He made his expression just slightly disbelieving. "She's all of what, eleven? Twelve? And it takes three men, drugs, and a bat to teach her a lesson?"

"It was enough for you!" The guy with the gun said.

Spencer firmed his stance slightly and let them see the little quiver that ran down his leg when he shifted his weight. He wanted them to see it. "Maybe. But that at least made sense. All those precautions against a federal agent, that's logical. But against a girl? Come on, where's the honor in that? Where's the pride? She can't even put up a fight."

The leader let out a startled laugh. "You offering up one in her place, cripple?"

_Come on, guys. Any time now would be great!_ Spencer thought. The rest of him was scrambling to think of how to do this. If it meant the girl got free, there was no doubt in his mind what he had to do. "And if I am?"

"I'm not stupid, mutie. I saw you and your _friends_ out there." The leader told him. "But you see, we've got other people out there, keeping them busy. There's no one to come along and save you. You're all alone." He let out a mocking laugh. "Still want to try and trade places? Hell, what's to stop us from taking the both of you."

From off to the side, another voice broke into their group, calling out. "He aint alone."

They all looked to the right to the partition that separated this row from the next. Remy was squatting on top of it, arms resting on his knees, cards in his hands.

The guy with the gun pressed his weapon a little harder into the girl's head, wringing a pained cry from her, and the other two moved forward enough to shelter them. The guy and girl were backed against the van. Remy smirked at them as he hopped down, landing easily on his feet. "Y' ought to pay more attention, _hommes_. Y'r liable to get y'rself killed one day, not watchin' y'r back like dat." Turning his head a little, he shot Spencer a quick look. "Y' all right dere, _mon ami_?"

"Fine." Spencer said quickly. His gaze stayed on the girl.

The leader's head suddenly shot the other direction, just seconds before another voice joined the group and everyone looked to the other side now. Alex was strolling around the end of the van, looking for all the world like this was just a normal day for him. He looked at Spencer and shook his head. "I knew if I followed Gambit I'd find you, pidge. Remind me to kick your ass when we get home."

"Y'll have to stand in line." Remy growled out.

Spencer fought back the urge to roll his eyes. "Can we get back to the matter at hand, guys?" He asked. His voice was just a hint absent, though. Most of him was focused on one little fact, adding it together without countless others. It was like the final little piece to a puzzle. Now that he had it, everything seemed to click into place. As the realization slammed through him, he hurried to adjust his plans, trying to figure out how to use this. What he came up with prompted him to add on to his last comment, saying "I mean, we do kind of have a girl to rescue and two mutant haters and their hypocrite of a leader to take care of."

Just like he'd known would happen, the leader latched on to one word. "Hypocrite? What are you talking about?"

Spencer let his eyes widen as he looked back at the man. "I would've thought it was obvious. I mean, really now."

"What the hell are you talking about?" The black haired one snarled at him. He looked like he was getting tired of these games and was aching to get back to his fun.

Spencer fought down his shudder and met those cold eyes. Only by sheer will did he keep his voice steady. "I'm talking about your leader. He preaches about taking down mutants and he helps you guys do your little dirty work, but all the while, he's just like the rest of us. You...you do realize he's a mutant too, don't you?"

His words got the shocked reaction he wanted. Everyone startled at that. The leader puffed up, trying to look tough, but Spencer could see the little twitch to his jaw, the small flash of fear in his eyes. "Bullshit!" The guy snapped at him. "I'm not like you disgusting freaks!"

Spencer didn't bother speaking to him. It wasn't the leader he wanted his next words directed to. He looked between the black haired one and the one with the gun, directing his words to them. "Don't tell me you guys never suspected?" He asked them, surprise in his tone. "How do you think he knows who's a mutant and who isn't? I mean, it stumped me for a while, I'll admit that. Especially in my case. I wondered how on earth you guys had discovered I was a mutant. I didn't exactly advertise it. In fact, I hid it rather well, considering no one but friends and family ever knew. So how was it that you guys knew? It didn't make sense." He took a small step forward, watching them carefully, using his powers to add a small little _push _to his words. "Not unless one of you was a mutant, too. One that could sense other mutants and their powers."

The one with the gun looked torn between disbelieving and furious. "You're lying!" He shouted.

Spencer stepped forward another small step. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Remy adjust with him, keeping close enough to help if he had to while still back enough to let the others feel safe. "How else would he know who's a mutant?" Spencer asked once more. Another small step forward, closer to the guy with the gun. "Think about it. He even knows what their powers are and how to protect against it so you guys don't get hurt. Like with me, he knew just how to drug me so I wouldn't be able to have enough energy to fight back. How'd he know that?"

The leader cast a furious look to Spencer, the panic in his eyes growing. "Back off!" He said sharply. "Just back off and shut up. Don't listen to him. He's just trying to distract you guys."

"Distract from what?" Spencer asked, taking another step forward. "There's nothing I can do right now, I know that. You guys have the power here. I'm just talking, asking questions."

"Just shut your mouth and back up!"

"Am I hitting a little too close to home here?" Spencer asked him. "You're acting awfully defensive for someone who claims he has nothing to hide. Is it maybe because I've hit the nail on the head here and you're terrified your friends are going to find out your dirty little secret?"

That last little push was enough to do what Spencer had wanted. The guy with the gun turned to look at his leader, fury on his face. He shifted his gun to point at him, demanding "Is it true?"

The girl was smart. Though drugged, her survival instincts were strong enough to push past that and have her jerking in the guy's grip. She tore out of his relaxed arm and moved before he could stop her. Alex darted forward at the same time, grabbing her and yanking her back before the guys could do anything. The man swung his gun around to shoot towards Alex and Spencer and Remy both reacted at the same time. Remy flung a card right at the ground by those two, blasting them back against the side of the van, and Spencer lifted his cane and slammed it into the black haired guy, channeling the electrical energy down the metal strip in the cane and straight into the guy so that it acted like a Taser, jolting him and sending him flying to the ground, unconscious.

The other two were moving and Spencer saw that gun pointed towards Remy. At the same time, he saw the water on the ground near their feet from where his water bottle had fallen when he'd been knocked into the wall. Quickly, Spencer called to Remy "Jump back!" and, thankfully, Remy reacted immediately, flipping backwards and out of the way just in enough time for Spencer to slam his cane down at the edge of the water. With the current still going down the cane, it hit the water and immediately jolted both the men. When Spencer lifted his cane again, the two dropped down to the ground.

Spencer almost dropped with them. He let go of the energy and grounded his cane once more, using it to support his weight. Remy started to hurry towards him and Spencer shook his head. "Find something to restrain them with until the cops get here."

There was the sound of running footsteps echoing around them suddenly. Spencer looked up just as the rest of the team comes rushing in, skidding around the corner. The group stood there for a moment and simply stared. Spencer was grimacing and leaning on his cane, Alex had a clinging kid pressed up against him, and Remy was binding together the wrist of one of the unconscious men on the ground.

Spencer looked up at Scott and summoned up a shaky smile. "What took you so long?"

* * *

_Okay, there it is. Not my best work I think but, meh, cr8zymommy wouldn't let me change it. She said she liked it the way it was and for me to shut up and put it up. Bossy little britches there. Bless her wonderful heart. Well, I hope all you wonderful darlings enjoyed this too. I like that Spencer used his profiling a bit instead of just powers, because he's always going to be a profiler in with everything else, right? And just one more chap left! An epilogue. I decided to do it separate instead of with this chap. Weeeee!_

_DeputyDog: Thank you. I like how open they are together too. That's how all people should be!_

_TazzieLuv13: Glad your request was sated ;)_

_IntoTheWilds: Yeah, Chester's on my mental 'unalive list' too, the rotten connard. Still, what's a good story without some bad people :D_

_ 4: I have to agree, Remy does have a lot in common with his protectiveness, doesn't he? But, I like the fact that the brothers will get overprotective and try to take care of it all for Spencer and Remy will be protective while still recognizing that Spencer's man enough to handle some problems on his own. I think it's a good balance. I'm glad you're excited for a sequel! All the branches do have plots open to them lol the only challenge is making sure they don't end up sounding too much alike in some points. I don't want to overuse something. :)_


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